Interim
by ClearlyInvsible
Summary: With victory came peace, with peace comes new lives. New Royals to rule over Ylisstol, with the goal of leading their nation into a prosperous age. Behind the scenes, two figures work to ensure that goal becomes reality. A story chronicling the events during the two-year timeskip in Awakening.
1. C-1: A Red Letter Day

It was a day to remember, that mid July haze. The entire city had become festival grounds for Ylissean and Feroxi alike. Joy, relief and jubilance danced wildly among the people of Ylisstol. The War with Plegia had finally ended. Soldiers were once more reunited for their families, hopefully never to part again. A new man sat on the throne of the Halidom, ready to carry on the role that his departed sister had left vacant all too soon.

But the highlight of the day wasn't any of those grand events. Instead, it was yet another happy moment. One of the happiest of Chrom's life.

A month ago he had offered his betrothed a ring, one passed down in his family from heir to heir. It was to be given to the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, the woman who would help him raise a family and lead his homeland into a new age of peace and prosperity. A woman who shared his convictions in never seeing war visit Ylisse again, and a chance to let all people within her borders have their own happily ever after.

And there Robin stood, grumbling and glowering next to the groom in question.

He was a bit surprised when Chrom asked _him_ to be the best man. He already had a million duties to partake during the day. Organizing security with Sully, planning out the logistics with Cordelia, making sure Stahl and the cooks had all the food ready in time for the reception, ensuring Olivia and her troupe were ready to entertain the guests.

What he didn't expect at all, however, was gift he would receive that morning.

"Gaius delivered this to me in the evening. It took him a few weeks, but it appeared to pay off." Chrom removed a parcel tube from the small of his back, the object having been obscured by his cape until now. Robin stared on as he unpackaged a roll of documents and offered them over. Tentatively, the tactician took them into hand, reading the lines over quickly.

They were pages of census documents. Older ones, with the Plegian crest stamped at the top. Their edges were frayed from having spent a few decades in the files of some storeroom. At the top was a woman's name, Cecilia, written in old calligraphy in dark purple ink. The mark where the husband's name should have been had long since been lost, though he couldn't tell due to wear or by voluntary action. Near the center was a day, a month, and a year. Twenty one years ago, a year after Chrom's birth as he could recall.

And then there was the name. Robin. Son of Cecilia Medon.

He didn't respond. Instead he just kept flipping through the documents, reading through each page at speed as he tried to absorb the information. Meanwhile Chrom merely restarted his explanation. "Basilio suggested the idea while Flavia had her way with their treasury. We didn't have time then, but with the recent disappearance of the Risen I figured it the best chance to search."

Robin nodded absentmindedly as he tried to realize what rested in his hands. What may be the last link it his past he would ever find. His memory before Chrom, Lissa and Frederick found him in that field had sparsely returned, only giving him flashes and glimpses into his shattered thoughts.

Every day he would search and research, subjecting himself to Miriel's experiments and Tharja's hexes. Something, **anything** for him to find out who he really was. Where he came from. If there was anyone for him to go back to.

And now he had the answers in his grasp.

This log had been taken in his third year. He'd been born on Altea of all places, the second child to this Cecilia. She was daughter of the city's Count, and she'd given birth to him on the first day of January. The rest of the pages seemed to be medical and bureaucratic records he couldn't make heads or tails of.

"This… this is too much." Robin finally managed to say, his gloved hands shaking as he slowly rolled the parchment back up. Tears welled in the corners of his eyes, streaking down his cheeks. "You've read this?"

Chrom nodded in the affirmative. "I hope you don't mind the intrusion, but I wanted to see for myself where my best man came from."

"I still can't believe it. You did this for me?" He asked in astonishment, still in disbelief. "You sent someone on a wild goose chase for a man you've only known a year?"

"You talk like he didn't do this willingly, Robin." Chrom answered, giving the man a shake so he would finally look up at him once more. "Any of the Shepherds would have gladly done this, myself included! Gaius was merely the best candidate to find something so obscure."

"But…" Robin shook his head, slipping the documents under his robe and into an inner pocket. He wiped the waterworks away and straightened himself, his usual dry demeanor coming back into form. "Thank you. Chrom, _thank you_. I can't even begin to convey how much this means. I'm forever in your debt."

Chrom asked, almost out of the blue. He wrapped the arm around the shoulders of his shorter companion, guiding the two towards the exit. "You would do the same for me, I am owed nothing. But that isn't the only reason why I called for you."

Robin didn't resist as the men were guided out of the Shepherds barracks and out into the blazing sun of Ylisstol. Robin tentative looked around them as his memories recalled how much had happened on these grounds. If one told you that this city had been sacked, you almost wouldn't believe them. Reconstruction was swift, the entire city working as one being to refurbish what was damaged and replace what was lost.

"Now that I will be taking Emmeryn's place, I will need to remove myself from the Shepherds." Chrom disclosed. "Getting used to the role of statesman will take… time, but it's one I need to assume none the less."

"Virion could give you lessons. Knowing Maribelle she's already subjugated Sumia under her tutelage." Robin laughed at his own joke, before realizing what he said was most likely what was going to transpire. The Noblewoman would see it as her _duty_ to educate the new Queen, which meant…

Sumia was more than likely going to die. Oh dear.

Chrom shook his head. "I can handle myself in court. But what I need is assistance in administration." The two ducked under and arch and moved into the courtyard, the same one where Marth had been unmasked. Strange how it all felt so distant now… they hadn't seen heads or tails of the woman since Plegia.

"I'm more than happy to help with the search." Robin chimed innocently. "We'll need to replace a few advisors, yes? The hierarch position will also need filling, along with quite a few of our Commanders."

"I already have Candidates for advisors, along with the Knight Captainhoods." Chrom explained, letting his arm fall away from his friend. "The only positions left are Marshal in nature."

"That's… surprising quick of you." Robin blurted out, lifting his hands in defense as Chrom glared at the indirect slight. "What? You hate paperwork! Frederick and I handle all of the Sheperds' clerical duties!"

"A bit of tact would still be prefered." The Prince answered.

Robin sighed, dropping his arms. "Well if you have the candidates, I suppose I can help with their assessment. Or act as their assistants in the meantime."

"You, an assistant?" Chrom huffed skeptically. "A bit overqualified for that, no?"

"In case you forgot I technically _have_ no qualifications." Robin pointed out, before patting his own side. "Unless you count these."

The newfound Exalt rolled his eyes, arms going over his chest as the two stopped next to a row of shrubs. "I have other duties in mind." Chrom clarified, leaving Robin befuddled at his friend's rather cryptic way of wording.

"I…" Robin began, looking to the ground and stroking his chin. "You'll need to spell it out for me."

Chrom sized up the ash haired wanderer, keeping his pose as Robin continued to remain lost. Internally he could not comprehend how the normally perceptive mage was being so dense, but decided not was not the time for teasing.

"I mean to make you the realm's Grandmaster." Chrom said, clear as day.

Robin's brain simply shut down as the revelation registered with him. Each emotion made itself visible on his face as it came to him, making him look as if he was trying to be a street mime.

Confusion, comprehension, shock, disbelief, confusion again, until he managed to settle back onto disbelief.

"You… want me. _Me_. The Plegian amnesiac, to be the new Grandmaster of Ylisse." Robin reiterated as he stared at his best friend. They were both in the castle's Counsel chamber while this discussion was being had, a circle of benches and seating surrounding the center tilework where the two leaders of the Shepherds stood. "You want me to be the tactician for _our entire_ _military_?"

Chrom nodded in response, a smile beaming at the snow haired man. "You're easily the best strategist we have Robin. If it wasn't for your schemes we'd all likely be dead in the desert now."

"That-..." Robin slapped his palm across his own face, shaking his head back and forth while Chrom laughed at his reaction. He lowered his hand and looked on to the new Royal in exasperation. "The counsel is never going to approve of this. Half of them don't even trust me being in the country, now you're making me a military officer?"

"You've already undertaken most duties a Grandmaster would hold." Chrom dismissed with little concern. "Our armies have marched on your plans for half a year now. At this point you hold the title in all ways but actuality."

"Have you ever stopped to think that's why no one's raised any objections? This is an official appointment, not emergency orders!" Robin continued to protest, face creased with stress as the worst case scenarios began to run through his head. Dealing with the Ylissean court, having to win over the General's staff, settling into the city permanently. After the war he'd planned to take some kind of reprieve, maybe try and hunt down more answers about his past on his own.

"Robin, you of all people know I do not make these choices lightly." Chrom began, sternly glaring at his friend. "With my sister gone, I need the best people possible by my side so I can carry on her dream. If I am to rule, I need to rule _well. _You are a skilled soldier, a fine swordsman and an accomplished mage." He clapped a hand onto Robin's shoulder, his snow haired companion looking up morosely to meet the steeled eyes of his leader.

"But above all of that; you understand what she wanted more than anyone. Freedom and safety. I need you to make the military a vanguard of that." He explained firmly, not allowing the subject of his ire to utter a word in protest. "Not a fist, but a shield. A tool of peace, not a weapon of war. I did not pick someone else because there is _no one else_. Do you understand?"

Robin's head bobbed up and down, sighing as he resigned himself to his fate. Chrom's stubbornness wouldn't allow anything but a yes. Part of him resented that, the blue haired bull always had a tendency to get his way. But he understood as much as everyone how much Emmeryn's wishes weighed on the Prince's shoulders.

"You just had to use Emmeryn, didn't you?" Robin grumbled defeatedly, shrugging off the man's hand. Chrom laughed once more, letting the wayward hand rest casually above Falchon's sheath.

"Fine. Alright, it's not like I don't want to help you." The Plegian admitted. In all honesty he already had a heap of possible reforms ready to offer Chrom. His time dealing with the Ylissean militia had him jot the ideas in his free time, mostly out of annoyance at how archaic the Halidom's military seemed to operate. "But we run into one key problem."

"And that is?" Chrom asked.

"You mean to give a Plegian, my newfound gentile birth be damned, a peerage." Robin rattled off. "This isn't the same as knighting me Chrom. I have done research on Ylissean Grandmasters of yore, none of them were ever foreigners."

"I've already thought ahead of that." Chrom responded as the two began to walk once more. The Prince had already gotten an earful from Frederick about how utterly insane this act of his was, but through all of the knight's chastising critique he was also able to discern a clear and present solution. "Where did it say your family was from again?"

"Nothing at all about my father. My mother was from Altea." The gears began to whirr in his head, freeing themselves from the revelation's shock as his brain started piecing things together. "The island Ylisse annexed in the war's peace treaty."

"Indeed." Chrom confirmed, the duo now moving down the hall. Rays of dawn's light pierced through the windows, shining upon them both. "Now, why did we annex Altea? You were the one who suggested it after all."

"It's a trade hub, so we can have a better base for our merchants. It's close to the Plegian border, so we can keep sentry for bandit patrols. It's also a good place to start a navy if we ever had the funding." Robin bitterly noted, but there. He had hundreds of other reasons he could think of. Even if had to almost force Chrom to agree to the idea, the Prince wanted nothing to do with annexing Plegian land.

He saw it as an act of bad faith. Robin on the other hand was more pragmatic, seeing the island and the city as strategic hardpoint. Taking it was too great a boon, even if he knew the late Exalt wouldn't be pleased with conquests. There were times when principles were overshadowed by necessity. Plus, they'd just fought a long lasting conflict. Ending it all with no gains to speak of would've been seen as disgraceful by the people of the Halidom.

"Yes, yes, yes. But why did the Council want it as well?" Chrom continued to prod, looking on with a newly donned neutral expression. "Come on now, you've spent more time reading history and tactics in the last year than I did as a child. And _you_ didn't have noble tutors hovering over your shoulder."

Robin resisted the urge to roll his eyes, thinking back before the answer popped into his head. "...Marth. Marth's family ruled Altea before the War of Shadows. It was the birthplace of the Exalted bloodline." The tactician then stopped dead in his tracks, almost causing Chrom to trip over him at the sudden stop before Robin stabilized the Prince. "Are you insinuating I'm related to you!?"

Chrom stood back up once more once Robin released him, shaking his head. "Not possible. Your mother's family isn't in our records, Miriel checked." The prince thought back to the massive ledger of the Ylissean royal family, trembling in fear at the thought of reading through the tower of paper on his own. "But it does mean that your family is no less Ylissean than mine."

"My _mother's_ side, yes. We don't know anything about my father!" Robin countered, his voice suddenly raising. "For all we know he was a Grimleal priest or a Plegian General! I may even be some distant cousin of Gangrel!"

"Peace, Robin. Peace." Chrom comforted, taken aback by the man's sudden explosion. He kept his voice firm and controlled, trying to pull Robin back down from his mania. "We do not know that. Nor did we find any evidence of that. But what we do know is simple; you're of noble lineage. Your family came not only from a city in Ylisse now, but the city where _my_ ancestors also hail. That, paired with your actions during the War. Helping protect my sister from Plegian assassins, organizing not only her rescue attempt but the full invasion of Plegia itself. Do you truly think the Council members won't approve of you being Grandmaster?"

The logic was there, even if Robin wanted to deny it. He'd proven himself loyal to Chrom time and time again during the War and before. When they had returned to Ylisstol after the conflict, the people treated him as a hero. The man who'd helped Chrom lead their armies to victory, even after they'd lost so much. Their Exalt, their capital, their pride. WIthout him, as Chrom was so certainly sure of, they would've been lost.

But that didn't make him happy about it.

* * *

Why did she do this to herself?

Today could have been a day off for Cordelia. The first one in a very long time. She could be lounging about in the barracks, or walking through the town. Maybe making preparations to go back to her home in Friga. It'd been too long since she'd seen her family. Months before the war had even started, for all she knew her parents thought she had fallen during the invasion of Plegia.

Instead she was locked in the bridal chamber, fiddling madly over logs and papers as she helped plan her best friend's wedding. To the man she'd spent years pining over without end, no less. The Gods had a rather disturbing sense of humor.

In truth she wasn't as smitten with her Lord as she once was. Her time with the Shepherds, constantly being near the man along with her new comrades, had shifted her priorities. Part of it still hurt, not being the one preparing her wedding dress for the night. But her hurt was more overcome with joy. Sumia deserved this happiness, the night when Chrom proposed to her was clearly the most joyous one of her life.

That being said, planning everything for the klutz was still a nightmare.

"The kitchen said they'll be stocked within the hour. Sully has already assorted guards across the premises in areas where they won't be noticed." She called out, trying to catch Sumia's ear as the Queen to be powdered her nose. "Robin told me he would send a copy of the parade path to us by morning. Gregor and Vaike apparently appropriated some Feroxi ale as well."

"You mean stole!" Sumia called from her domicile.

"I am not a constable, my dear. I shall leave that investigation to them." Cordelia called back, flipping to a new page. "Everything seems fine. For now, at least."

"What about the cake?" Sumia continued to question.

"Gaius said it would be ready by the time of the reception." Cordelia lamented. She'd been worried about letting the sweet-toothed vandal oversee the centerpiece of all the food, but he'd insisted that he'd lessen the amount of sugar he usually put into confections.

"And the decorations?" Sumia finished.

"Ricken and Kellam are handling that." Another thing she didn't put much stock in. Ricken had insisted in helping somehow, and Kellam deserved to have a place in the ceremony. But she felt it best to let each Shepard do some part in this. It was a grand celebration for all involved, she just prayed to Naga they wouldn't muck it all up at the finish line.

She lifted her head at the sound of barefoot steps, her old friend finally having left the bathroom. Sumia looked like a completely bedridden mess, with an old purplish bathrobe hanging on her shoulders over her nightgown. Her hair hadn't been done yet, at all. Her eyes were crusted beyond belief, her posture was slumped over. When Cordelia had come to rouse her an hour prior, the red-head almost had a heart attack. Apparently she'd spent half the night worrying herself mad instead of getting any proper beauty sleep.

"How much time do we have until the ceremony starts?" Sumia asked with a yawn, sitting herself down onto the bed next to the night-table Cordelia had occupied as a desk.

"Seven hours. Of which we will be used _entirely_ to make you somewhat presentable." Cordelia sighed, dropping her quill into a well of ink and resting her head on a hand. She turned over to look at the catastrophe of a bride. "I've already contacted Maribelle and Lissa, they'll arrive soon enough. With hopefully a full team of beauticians."

Sumia nodded slowly, absorbing the information before rubbing her eyes. "You don't need to do this, you know."

"I'm the only Shepard who knows enough about planning to handle this, par Robin. And he's already dealing with Chrom's side of things." Cordelia murmured, smiling softly. "And I _want_ to, Sumia."

Sumia opened her mouth to protest further, but Cordelia turned herself and took hold of her hands. "Listen. When we were younger, you never let yourself think you deserved something like this." She continued, Sumia's face burning up pink at the memory. "It's true! You always believed you weren't good enough to have your own happiness. Even after we joined the Knights, you never thought you'd even get a _date,_ let alone be wed."

"But… I'm marrying _Chrom_. You're sure this isn't awkward for you?" Sumia mumbled. In truth that fear had been one of the bigger ones nagging her the night prior. Most ladies in the Shepherds knew about Cordelia's old infatuation with the Prince. When Cordelia offered to organize the event, everyone was completely caught off guard. They all expected her to run for the hills and avoid the capitol at all costs.

Some might have even suspected her of trying to sabotage the affair.

"Maybe if this was a _year_ ago, yes. It would probably be rather painful for me." Cordelia admitted, squeezing Sumia's hands. "But I've…" The crimson haired knight racked her mind, searching for the right words to describe her thoughts. Her mind was still a complete mess, yes. For more reasons than just this wedding. She had gone through so much over such a short stretch of time.

"...After what happened in Ylisstol during the War. With what happened to my squadron, I want to focus on what I have and care for. And there's a lot, you included. I'm **happy** for you, and I'm happy for Lord Chrom as well. So don't think this is some trial for me, please?"

Sumia silently stared at the woman, blinking once. Cordelia was never a very good liar, and that trait hadn't changed since she joined the Shepherds about a year ago. But Sumia had never once thought she'd hear her friend, the man who basically lived for Chrom's affections, dismiss them.

"You found someone, didn't you?" She asked almost immediately, unable to disguise the joy in her voice. Both her eyes popped open, twinkling with the possibilities. The idea that Cordelia had finally moved on was a great relief to her. "Oh my Gods, who. Who! You've got to tell me!"

"Aurora." Cordelia answered in a dry deadpan, her red eyes shimmering in annoyance at the her friend's assumption. "We've already been wed in secret, I am sorry to inform."

Sumia visibly recoiled at the image of Cordelia becoming betrothed to her own Pegasus, which brought a smirk to the redhead's face. "I have other priorities before I deal with suitors." She then answered honestly.

"Well, one things calm down you'll probably get a whole line of them. Juuuuust like when we first joined the Knights." Sumia recalled as she rolled over on the mattress, lying on her back and staring wistfully at the roof.

Cordelia sighed, her brunette friend blissfully unaware as Sumia kept recounting the redhead's love life.

"Complimenting your looks…" Sumia began.

"I was as fair as any of our Sisters." Cordelia followed.

"Helping you whenever you needed it..."

"Quite capable of taking care of myself."

"Random letters from secret admirers…"

"Still don't know how they found our room."

"Sneaking in to play you songs through our window."

"Creepy _and_ forbidden. Trespassing on military property."

"Going down onto a single knee and professing their undying love!" Sumia rattled off, squeeing like a schoolgirl.

"Mortifying for all parties involved." Cordelia answered, promptly amputating the conversation. "Now can we return to the discussing the wedding?"

Sumia promptly pouted at Cordelia souring what she had seen as a good natured discussion, but as usual the Knight Paragon merely resumed her no-nonsense attitude. She scooped up the scroll and wet the quill once more, intent on forcing Sumia to sit through each detail possible while they had the time.

"Wait." Sumia requested, sitting up and facing her erstwhile assistant. Said assistant grumbled at yet another interruption, but once she looked to Sumia the bride to be's usual flightiness was totally absent.

"We do need to talk about something else before we get too busy." She informed sternly. "I'd rather discuss this before Lissa and Maribelle arrive."

"Must be rather important." Cordelia hummed, letting the quill sit in the inkwell before turning herself so that both knights focused on one another.

Sumia nodded, both of her hands resting in her lap. "You know that after this we won't be seeing each other that often. I'll have to start handling duties in court and…" She laughed weakly, nerves surging. "Well, running a country."

Cordelia remained quiet with that note, thinking about her own future.

The Pegasus Knights were gone now, with the whole Order taken from this world par herself, Sumia and a few scattered survivors who'd made their way back to the Capitol near the War's end.

Sumia had a new duty however, one that far surpassed what Cordelia could ever possibly possess.

Meanwhile she had nothing. Her Company had been slaughtered to the man, she was alone.

"I'm planning to return to Friga once the festivities have concluded." Cordelia informed a now gasping Sumia. "I wish to see my family." She tried to explain, hands shaking at the memory. The memory that she relived every night, watching all the women who'd trained her die like cattle.

"I… I _need_ to rest." She finished. Cordelia wanted that above everything else. After the months of war, each day bringing a new battle. Fleeing Plegia after the Exalt's death, surviving on scraps. Seeing the countless bodies, Ylissean and Plegian alike, strewn across the varied landscapes.

It was all too much for anyone to handle. Even her, she couldn't keep up this facade in front of her friends for much longer.

"Y-you'll come back though, right?" Sumia asked horrifically. She was coming back. She had to come back. She'd known Cordelia for years, and she always managed to jump back from everything. From the hazing from other knights, to the solitude from home. Even during the War itself, while Sumia was a shaking mess before each battle, all she had to do was look to see her friend.

Fear and panic slowly slithered through her veins when Cordelia didn't respond. This wasn't happening, it couldn't. She _couldn't_ lose Cordelia now, not when she needed her help more than ever. Even with Chrom's support, she needed someone catch her whenever she fell. Figuratively and literally.

Luckily for her, Cordelia nodded. "But what will I do? The Order's been all but destroyed, and… I don't know if I wish to be a Shepherd full time."

"You don't have to be!" Sumia practically yelled, almost causing Cordelia to jump out of her skin. "Chrom and I are already planning on rebuilding the Knights! It's one of the first things on our list."

Ever the skeptic, Cordelia gave Sumia a look of mistrust. "Really. You plan to refill the ranks?"

"We want to _expand_ the ranks!" Sumia happily said, her sorrow being replaced with elation at her first personal endeavor as Queen. "We aren't just going to remake the Knights, we're going to make them better than ever before!"

"Enlighten me on how." The paragon mused, still not buying it.

"Well…" Sumia laughed nervously, twiddling her thumbs as she shrunk beneath Cordelia's smoldering gaze of disapproval. "Plenty of ways! We'll rebuild it all from the ground up, that way they'll be stronger than ever!"

"Uh huh." Cordelia answered. "And who's going to be leading these new and improved 'super knights?' Lissa? Marlibelle? You certainly will not be able to."

"Actually…" Sumia laughed again, this time sounding as if she was being smothered with a pillow. One of her fingers nervously twisted a lock of her hair.

Weeks before this day, she and her fiance had discussed at length how they were going to patch the holes Plegia had pierced into the nation. The Order of Pegasus Knights came into the discussion, along with the Ylissean Knighthood. Both had taken brutal casualties through the war, the latter still sustainable but having lost it's own leadership.

Both of them had agreed on whom the new Captains should be. Frederick was the best choice to lead the Knights, he was already a diligent commander and a fine instructor. Stahl, Sully and Kellam had already agreed to help the man when he humbly accepted the offer. All of the Ylissean Shepherds now had new duties in this post war world.

As for the Order, though this discussion had thrown a wrench in her plans...

"Chrom and I were wondering if… you could?"

* * *

"What do you mean _we're missing the cake!?"_

Robin and Gaius stood in the middle of chaos. Both were in the banquet hall of the palace, which had been designated as the end point of the wedding parade. Wedding workers ran around, between and sometimes _through_ them as they carried out various tasks.

Tables were being set and prepared, seating charts had been arranged. The hired band for the evening sat on stage, already. Ricken, the Shepherd's youngest member, stood atop a tall chair with a makeshift bullhorn as he gave orders and instructions.

A large sculpture of ice that had been commissioned, shaved down to resemble the brand of the Exalt in the most gaudy way possible, leaked onto the floor and caused some poor girl to slip onto her face.

Robin made a mental note, ice sculptures were stupid.

All the while Gaius stood in front of him, a sucker lazily dangling from his mouth as he paid no mind to the madness that surrounded them. "Well, Stahl told me the kitchen had too many orders and not enough cooks. So I borrowed some money and hired uh…"

He scratched his cheek, trying to find the right words. "We'll call him a contractor."

Robin groaned loudly, his palm covering his face. "Dare I ask why I don't recall authorizing this?"

The sugar addict, rather enjoying himself, smirked at the distraught wedding organizer. "Don't worry about it Bubbles. I can vouch, this guy is gold. Wife's the best baker on the continent."

"That isn't the po-" Robin inhaled deeply, controlling his desire to yell in frustration. "Fine, fine. OK. Where is it then?"

"That's the uh… tricky part." Gaius informed, looking around them for a moment before leaning in. "We're gonna need to go nab it ourselves."

Robin gaped, wondering why they couldn't just send a group of couriers to transport the confection. "Listen, my guy's good. But he's also not really a baker by trade, per say. They're an old contact from my… previous line of work."

"Gaius." Robin started, white hot rage starting to simmer to the surface. "Don't tell me you hired a crook. Please, for the love of Naga, don't tell me you hired a crook to prepare something this important for a **royal wedding**."

"I never said that, you can't prove it in court." Gaius swiftly denied. "He's just involved in 'extra-legal industries.' Yeah, we'll call it that."

"Why did I ever agree to this job, mother of Anri." Robin muttered under his breath, shaking his head and dismissing what fury he could as he glared towards the convicted criminal. "So what happened?"

"Nothing. Cake's ready. But we need to go get it ourselves." The thief explained, taking a long suck from the lollipop resting in his mouth.

"And why's _that?" _The white haired tactician asked with dread.

"He may or may not have…" For the first time in the discussion, Gaius showed a physical sign of discomfort, scratching the back of his neck and directing his eyes away from Robin's increasingly strained expression. "...let's just say he doesn't feel comfortable leaving his hideout right about now."

The two men stared at one another in silence, the scene around them continuing to unfold without any attention paid at the confrontation occuring right in the center of it all. One butler took a moment to look in their direction, then upon seeing Robin's face quickly disappeared back into his work.

"Gaius." Robin said, losing all semblance of calm as his hands curled into fists. A vein began to pop out from his pale skinned forehead, one of his eyes twitching. "I'm going to kill you. I'm going to kill you, and make it look like Frederick's horse did it."

Gaius, taking quite a few steps back and lifting his hands in defense from the angered tactician until he backed into a pillar.

"While I'm completely sure you could pull that off Bubbles, let's wait until after we get the cake." Robin looked unconvinced, and now more than ever Gaius was painfully aware of the Arcthunder tome hanging off the man's hip. "Please?"

Gritting his teeth, Robin acquiesced, his hands unclenching as he regained control. "_Where?"_

"Lower quarter, his name's Petey." Gaius informed. "Hour trip back and forth, tops. Swear on me mum."

Groaning, the white haired man pinched the bridge of his nose. Why in the hell he tolerated this, he never knew. "We'll need a third person to help carry the blasted thing."

"Um… I can help." A third voice popped in. Robin and Gaius both jumped in surprise as Kellam materialized next to them, armor and all. "Ricken's handling everything pretty well, I'd be happy to come along."

Not looking a gift horse in the mouth, Robin jumped on the offer immediately. "Perfect. Gaius, go get Kellam a cloak and meet me at the palace gate. We're leaving now before someone notices."

The two men nodded, the thief ducking into the crowd and the knight clunking behind him as they went to find more appropriate attire. All the while Robin stood there for a few more moments, breathing in and out as he tried to center himself once more.

Why did he do this to himself?

* * *

"_Her jewelry isn't here!?"_

Cordelia clutched her hair as she paced back and forth outside Sumia's room. Shouting and arguing echoing out as the bride to be was locked into a three way debate between herself, Maribelle and Lissa. Both the Princess and the Heiress had gone inside to try and ready her for the big day, but from the sound of things the trio were spending most of their time debating on how she should even look.

Cordelia, sensibly, retired herself from the situation as it grew out of control for the sake of her sanity.

She now stood outside the room, mired in an entirely different issue.

Sully leaned up against the wall next to the room's door, balking at the revelation. Anna laughed sheepishly, tapping her finger against her chin as she tried to come up with some sort of explanation for her gaff. All the while Cordelia was livid, muttering raging obscenities under her breath that made even the crimson cavalier blush as red as her armor.

"In my defense, it was hard to find a jeweler on such short notice." The merchant quickly admitted, failing to pull the fuming knight out of her paces. "The city's still half destroyed, most of my local suppliers aren't exactly open for business anymore."

"Really?" Sully asked from the side, as unamused as Cordelia with the incident. "You said it was gonna be a piece of cake when Chrom handed over the gold."

"I… miscalculated?" Anna added nervously, laughing once more as she withered away from Sully's pointed glare.

"Uh huh." The horsewoman acknowledged with a huff.

Cordelia kept her movements going, mind racing a mile a minute as she thought of how to fix this. Thankfully, Sumia didn't seem to notice the discussion that was happening right outside her door. At the moment she seemed to be demanding Lissa stop trying to put her hair up into twintails similar to the Cleric's own. But once they were finished with makeup, she'd go to put on the dress. And when she went to put on the dress, she'd see her earings, tiara and necklace were missing.

Cordelia's heart broke at the image in her mind, her friend's perfect day smeared just because of one missing headdress.

"You said it isn't here." Cordelia rattled off quickly, turning to face Anna as she walked. "Is it ready, or did you bungle this that badly?"

Anna bobbed her head up and down. "He said it'd be ready this week! We just… need to go grab it is all."

"Then we go get it." Cordelia affirmed, now looking to Sully. "Do you mind if we borrow some mounts from the Knight stables?"

"Not at all, I was actually about to offer." She answered with a smirk, pushing herself off the wall. "Shouldn't take long on horseback."

"Indeed." Cordelia mused, again facing Anna sharply. The secret seller jumped, looking at her interrogator's fiery eyes. "And where is this jeweler?"

"Lower Quarter of the city. It'll take us a half-hour to get there." Anna promised, then pulled out a small sack of gold. "I even have the second half of the payment here, see? Was gonna go grab it myself."

"That looks like a lot less then what Chrom gave you." Cordelia observed through narrowed eyes, noting that the tweed bag was barely the size of Anna's palm. Chrom had offered her a budget of more than a hundred gold coins the month prior. "Don't tell me you skimmed off the top."

"Hey, I resent that!" Anna boasted defensively, pocketing the sack once more. "Chrom said I could take the extra as a finder's fee! I just… found the best deal, is all."

"Cordelia, the Lower Quarter's filled with scalpers." Sully informed from the side. "Thieves, rogues, bandits. Not the place you'd find a legit jeweler."

The Pegasus Knight stood there, stunned for a moment, before she looked back to the merchant with a renewed flame. "Anna…"

"I uh… cannot confirm or deny _how_ the gems were procured." Anna squirmed, backing off as both Shepherd women began to advance upon her threateningly. Whatever on their minds was clearly not going to be pleasant for her if she didn't pacify the situation.

She gulped, trying not to trip over herself as she continued her slow retreat. "Listen, I know you're both _mad-"_

"Mad? Ooh, sister, I'm not mad." Sully began, cracking her knuckles. "You cheaped out on my friend's wedding ensemble for a few extra coins. I'm Gods-damned **furious.**"

"Think if we shake her upside down we'll get a refund?" Cordelia asked, moving around to cut off the beset merchant's route of escape.

"Let's find out." Sully agreed, gleefully grabbing the trickster's flamboyant collar and holding her in place.

"OK!" Anna cried, squirming under Sully's iron tight hold as she whipped her head back and forth search from any semblance of mercy from the women. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I'll pay Chrom the gold back when we get the stuff!"

Cordelia held a hand up to stop Sully, who had already now grabbed Anna by the shoulders and was lifting her off of the ground. "You swear sure it's all really there? Not trying to pull one over us?"

"I'm a woman of my word!" Anna swore, beads of sweat dripping down her face like a torrential rainstorm. "There's a tiara, earings, broach, necklace, the whole shebang! Ordered the full set!" She looked back to Sully, eyes wide as she plead her case. "Come on, Red Rider. You know I'm legit, I'm the one who sold your hubby that ring on your finger!"

"And I'm still surprised the rock hasn't shattered like glass." Sully answered in a deadpan, not buying a word of it.

"Oh come on, guys! You think I'd try and con a Royal!?" Anna cried in desperation.

"**Yes." **The two other women chimed at once.

Anna again opened her mouth to protest, but then clammed up. "OK, that's a fair assumption." She admitted. "But Sumia's my friend! You're all my friends! I swear on Marth's grave, I commissioned everything!"

"Still don't believe her." Sully mused, looking over to Cordelia again as Anna continued to futiley attempt escape. "Time for the shake down?"

Cordelia's brow creased in though, looking over their captive with interest as she tried to dissect whether she was speaking the truth. Anna clutched her hands together, fingers interlocked as she kept pleading that she was saying the truth. Her eyes were wide with panic, voice sputtering in fear at the dire straits she was in.

"We'll check this supplier of hers." Cordelia acquiesced, much to Anna's visible relief. Again she lifted her hand, cutting off the stream of thank yous that were now being lobbed at her. "What's his name?"

"Peter Natal." Anna readily informed. "Everyone calls him Petey. Runs a tavern in the southern part of the Quarter."

"Good." She paused for a moment, once again listening to see if the three other women behind the door had caught wind of the confrontation. They were still trapped in her own world, the topic now having changed to the far more amicable topic of the seating arrangements.

"Let's go now." Cordelia ordered, spinning around on her heel and marching down the hall. Sully followed, not releasing Anna. Instead she threw the merchant over her shoulder, carrying her off like a rolled up fine rug.

Nothing was ever simple with these people.

* * *

Peter Natal was many things.

A tavern owner, a cook, a father and husband.

A counterfeiter, a thief, a bookie and smuggler.

And a damn fine hornest, if he did say so himself.

But he was also two things he often found himself regretting far, far too often in his various lines of work.

A debtor, and far too honest to justify his surviving this long.

As he sat quietly in his empty bar, the middle aged man counted various stacks of copper and silver coins. His establishment was barren, everyone in the city was making their way to camp along the parade route of the Royal wedding. Not just rich nobles, but impoverished paupers like those whom often frequented his little den of indecency.

Even his wife elected to go, taking his two sons along with her to watch the high born bride and groom ride amongst their subjects. It was a city wide festival that all were partaking in, after almost a year of bloody war. One that had claimed his brother and sister when they ran to join the Ylissean Militia.

He wanted to go. He wanted to celebrate how it was all over, and that they could now rest knowing they died for a victorious cause. That he could share the jubilation with his remaining family.

But he couldn't. He made up some story about not feeling well, as shielding his side activities away from his family.

"Still not enough…" He cursed, having taken his wealth for a third time in hope that he'd previously miscounted.

They'd be here soon, demanding what was owed them. Men in hoods, weapons hanging off their side and breath that reeked of blindingly strong liquor. Natal was a month past his payment now, and there was no chance they would give him another extension on his loan. The last time they _had_ given him one, they'd broken his knee in exchange. The cane resting against the bar counter was clear evidence to that.

He signed, looking under the counter at the iron sword that hung hidden away. In his youth, he'd used this blade in an attempt at the Knighthood exam. Strange how his life had gone from that to this in fifteen years.

Hmpf. Well the dastards weren't going to kill him without a fight at least. Bum leg be damned.

Three knocks rang out from the entrance, echoing past the table and into his ears. With a sigh, he readied himself, then called out in his graveled, low voice. "**Come in!"**

The door opened, and three figures wandered inside. Each was draped in a hooded brown riding cloak, their faces obscured from his vision. The person in the rear was easily the tallest, towering over the two in front of them. The others were of similar height, but of differing posture. One stood straight and proud, clearly radiating military discipline. The other was a bit slouched over, marching with a spring in her step.

Peter cursed his blasted luck, he'd hoped they'd send people a bit easier to defend against.

"I don't have the coin." He admitted outright, hand resting close to his blade's hilt. "What's on the table is all I can offer."

"Coin?" The energetic one asked in a familiar, feminine voice. "Uh, Petey? We're here for the gems I asked for two months ago."

"Gems?" Peter asked, hand relaxing from the blade. Soon the voice clicked in his mind, and he put together that these weren't his expected guests. "_Anna?"_

The head nodded in approval, before a hand shot up to remove the hood and revealed a confused merchant. Cordelia then followed suit, looking rather unamused at the mishap while Sully's face revealed her clearly holding back a laugh.

"Oh, sweet Naga." Peter said in relief, shoulders relaxing. "Don't do that to me girl."

"Don't do what to who?" Anna asked, still not understanding. "You told me to come get the stuff I bought from you! What, did I get the wrong pidgeon?"

"No, not at all." Peter dismissed, slipping off his stool and grabbing his cane. "I just didn't expect you today. Shouldn't you be partying with the Prince? Last I heard you'd made inroads with him."

"Your information network still scares me." Anna observed, before shaking her head. "We're headed there after this. You _do_ have what I paid for, right?"

"He better, for your sake." Cordelia hissed quietly from the side.

Peter looked curiously at the woman, leaning over and across the counter to look Cordelia directly in the eyes. Her smoldering glare adjusted from Anna to the barkeeper, but he didn't seem cowed. "And who exactly are you?"

"Her babysitter." Cordelia answered sardonically, earning a short laugh from Sully. "Regardless, Sir. We are on a short schedule, pray you can give us what was asked?"

"Huh. Here I thought Anna was the last merchant on the planet who needed a bodyguard." Peter commented, shrugging before he turned to go into the kitchen behind him. "Wait there! I'll be out with the box."

The three women complied, waiting at the counter in silence as the man disappeared from their sight.

"He actually seems pretty nice. Here I thought you'd drag us into some seedy jackass' parlor." Sully commented with a grin, playfully punching Anna's shoulder.

Anna yelped a bit, rubbing the forceful strike with a hand. "I wouldn't give a job this important to someone I didn't trust completely." She admonished defiantly. "Petey's the kind of guy who delivers. Plus he's actually one of the few honorable people in this business."

"Still can't believe you commissioned a common criminal." Cordelia berated.

"Hate to break it to you sweetheart, but criminals have always helped run this town." Anna shot back with narrowed eyes. "Only difference is some are like Petey, some are actual cutthroats, and some pretend to be legit like your 'oh so benevolent' Merchants Guild of Ylisstol."

Sully shrugged, accepting it. "She ain't wrong, Cordy. This city's always had a pretty lively black market."

"In Friga we operated _within_ the law. I'm shocked the same can't be said for our own Capitol." The Pegasus Knight stated obstantly.

"Welcome to the real world, Miss Genius." Anna quipped with a growing grin, watching Cordelia chafe under such a hated nickname.

Peter returned before the supposed genius could offer rebuttal, a fine square box with a dark reddish-brown finish. He placed it on the bar counter in each of the ladies' sight, then opened it up to reveal the contents inside.

Inside the container was laced with soft black velvet, a mirror reflecting back at the onlookers. "Handcrafted Chon'sinese box made from their own cherry trees." He said in exposition, grabbing the necklace that rested atop all the other finery and lifted it for all to see. The purple and blue glistend vibrantly, even in the dim and dank light of the tavern.

"Amethysts and Sapphires mined, cut and set right next to Duma's Ingle. No imperfections, no mixtures. Pure, flawless and unmarred." He informed, continuing to lift the expensive accessory. All three of the women gazed in awe, rendered speechless at the majesty of what was laid before them.

Anna was the first to break out of her stupor. "You've outdone yourself, Petey! This is perfect!"

"Well, you did insist I got the best available." Petey noted with a shrug, setting the necklace gently back down and shutting the case. "Honestly, you're lucky. Caught this on the underground market three weeks back, had to near fight three people to grab it all. Apparently they used to belong to some Duchess down south."

Cordelia's face grew red as she was told the origins of the jewels, but beggars couldn't be choosers. They were on a tight schedule.

Besides, what Sumia didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

The box was closed, and then handed over into Anna's embrace in trade for her gold. She lustily looked inside once more, craving the gems.

Sully, ever vigilant, caught note and swiped the thing from her grasp, holding it gingerly under her shoulder.

Their task fulfilled, and the girls satisfied, Anna offered the two a high five. Begrudgingly, Cordelia followed through, smiling despite herself. Sully did so gladly, grinning from ear to ear.

"Thanks again, Petey." Anna repeated, leaning against the counter and looking at the coins. "Uh… say, what's this cash for anyway?"

Peter sighed, settling back down onto the stool and resting the cane in his lap. "Nothing you need to worry about."

Both Knights took pause at this, having been making their way to the exit before the man spoke again. Anna's face creased, not liking the barkeeper's tone. "That's only making me worry more."

"It isn't your problem." Peter affirmed once more.

Anna frowned even more severely, pushing herself upright and folding her arms over her chest. "Humor me."

Peter tutted his mouth, not wanting to divulge the information. The other two redheads had returned now, waiting as well for the man to say something. Realizing they wouldn't leave otherwise, he caved.

"Rourke." He said. Instantly Anna's face changed, twisting from a frown into a disgusted scowl. "I owe him money. A _lot_ of money."

"You took a loan from _Rouke?_" Anna asked again, watching Peter nod in confirmation. "Why!?"

"Uh, Anna?" Sully asked, now holding the box under her cloak. "Who's Rourke."

"A scumsucker, that's what." Anna answered, grimacing. "The guy's a thug. Runs the protection racket down here, gives 'loans' that he uses as an excuse to rob people blind."

Now it was Sully's turn to frown, grumbling to herself while Anna levied a disappointed look to the man. "Peter." She said with total seriousness. "Why?"

"Why? Oh, I dunno." The barkeep began, leaning over to match Anna's glare with one of total contempt. "Maybe because the Plegians burned down half the city, including my old bar." He pointed out, earning a wince from his target. "Maybe because I had to pay for **two** funerals after both my siblings bought the farm in that last fight with Gangrel."

Cordelia reeled back with shock, but the smuggler wasn't done. "Maybe because I lost almost my entire savings when this place got sacked! Maybe, just _maybe_ because I have three mouths to feed! Maybe because most of my customers, legit or otherwise, are **dead, and I didn't have any other options!"**

The red-headed merchant promptly choked on her words, shaking as she was informed about just how deep of a hole her friend was. "How much?" She asked frantically. "A hundred gold? I can give you that right now!"

"_Three_ hundred, sweetheart. If it was just a hundred I'd've handed him **that.**" Peter answered and jabbed a finger at the hidden box, with all three women turning pale as a ghost. Five hundred gold, that was about as much as Sully and Cordelia made in a year from their military pay.

"Shit." Anna cursed. She started to pace back and forth across the tavern's floor as she tried to come up with some kind of plan. "Damn it, this is bad."

"I'm going to guess this Rourke doesn't take well to not being paid?" Cordelia asked, color still not returning to her.

"He crippled me when I missed the last deadline, what do you think?" Peter answered dryly, Cordelia somehow going even more white.

Then, color came back. She straightened up, an idea coming to her first. "He's coming today, correct?" The flier asked. Peter grumbled in the affirmative.

"Then we're staying here and dealing with him." Cordelia declared, causing all three heads to turn and face her with surprise. "We're not standing by and letting a gang of thugs accost a man, are we?"

"Damn right we aren't." Sully answered grimly, clapping a hand on Peter's shoulder. "What kind of knights would we be if we didn't do something about this crap?"

"Weren't you the one who kept complaining about being on a schedule on the ride here?" Anna shot back at the pegasus rider.

"I'd rather be late and ask for an apology then be on time and let a man get _murdered_." Cordelia defended, turning back over to Peter.

"They're coming here correct? Then we let them come."

* * *

"This place smells like a sewer."

Robin's hand covered his face as the trio of men made their way down the street, trying to shield his nose from the unholy stench that rose from the unwashed street. His eyes were almost burning from the strength of the smell, truthfully he was surprised that he hadn't begun tearing up.

Gaius paid no mind, seemingly indifferent to the smell as he adjusted the hood of his cloak. If anything the thief felt right at home in the slum, not operating with the same caution and suspicion that Robin came to observe he carried within the palace walls. "Oh it ain't that bad, Bubbles. Imagine growing up in this part of time, the people smell a lot worse."

"Honestly smells like the farm back home." Kellam commented himself, resting behind his two compatriots with composure. He too was used to the unpleasant scents, having grown up having to shovel manure and other products of his family's animals all throughout his childhood. The normally silent man also seemed more relaxed that usual.

Robin himself continued to wallow in displeasure. He had to admit, compared to the smell of blood and iron that he had grown accustomed too in the war, refuse and excrement was a welcome alternative. At least these smells were evidence of the living, not the dead.

"How long until we get there?" The tactician asked as he rode shotgun in the covered wagon, Gaius at the reigns and Kellam sitting in the bed of the transport itself.

"Soon." Gaius spat a stick out of his mouth and onto the ground, the sucker having run dry. He quickly replaced the lost sweet, offering two more lollipops to his fellow Shepherds as they rolled down the road.

Kellam took the treat, thanking his friend. Robin eyed it with mild distrust, casting a glance at Gaius, then back at the candy. "Since when do you share your stash?"

"First time for everything." Gaius chirped back, wagging the sucker back and forth. "Come on, take it. It's your favorite. Banana strawberry swirl."

Robin continued to hesitate for a few more moments, before surrendering to his own sweet tooth and snatching it from the thief's grasp. He unwrapped the sucker and placed it in his mouth, savoring the sugar as it washed over his tastebuds.

"Take it as an 'I'm sorry' for not telling you about this sooner." Gaius said, looking back towards the road as he stirred the horses left at a turn.

"Hm. Well it's a decent start, I'll give you that." Robin answered, sucking loudly. "If anything I should be thanking you, really."

"Me? What'd I do?" Gaius asked, setting the wagon straight again. Then the thief remembered, laughing at the memory. "Oh, _that!"_ He exclaimed. "That was nothing Bubbles. Didn't think Chrom'd hand it to you so soon but, I'm not complaining."

Robin chuckled at his friend's apparent short-term memory, twirling the sucker in his mouth. "It was a surprise, that's for sure."

"What happened?" Kellam asked turning about to look at both of his friends. His own pink treat still remained in his hand, not having been consumed just yet.

Robin turned so he could better face both men, informing Kellam of the gift that Chrom and Gaius had imparted on him in the early hours that morning. The armored knight's eyes shined with empathetic happiness at Robin's newfound heritage, well aware of how doggedly the Plegian mad had been searched for any scraps of information.

"Lord Chrom was right y'know. We all would've done the same thing." Kellam gladly said, an infectious smile spreading between all three of them.

"I believe it." Robin hummed, resting back against the side of the wagon's white tarp. "Honestly, guys. I dunno what I did to get friends like all of you, but…"

"Don't get soft on me now, come on." Gaius chided gleefully. "What happened to framing Freddy's horse for my murder?"

"Oh, I'm still planning that. Just lulling you into a false sense of security before I strike. Kellam's got a hammer ready to knock you out after we get the cake." He jerked a thumb back towards the large man.

"Wait, I do?" Kellam asked, not sure about what the two were discussing. In truth back at the palace, he had only begun to listen near the end of their heated confrontation.

"Sure you do. There's also a burlap sack and a club shaped like the horseshoes Fredrick's horse wears." Robin continued nonchalantly, stretching his arms out as Kellam became more and more uncomfortable. There _was_ a rather large sack in the back.

Gaius, all the while, rolled his eyes. "You're a criminal mastermind. Ever think about taking up a career in larceny?"

"Tempting. But I've got another job offer." Robin answered back. Both Gaius and Kellam looked on, confused by the statement.

Realizing he might've said too much, the tactician sighed.

Then, also realizing how stressed said offer had made him, he vented.

He told both men about the position Chrom had asked him to take up. He told them both about his newly found gentile birth, and how he was petrified about what would happen next. He told them about the plans he originally had for after the war, and how they were now effectively dashed. He even complained about the various duties he had been burdened with this blasted wedding.

In the end he slumped, fatigued even talking about it all.

"...So what'd you tell'im?" Gaius asked, breaking the silence.

"That I'd give him an answer in a week." Robin said, again sighing. "I don't know what to do."

"You wanna know something, Bubbles?" Gaius pondered. "This is a complex problem ya got. Your best buddy's asking you for something pretty big, and you're worried about the repercussions."

He snapped his fingers after. "But, you know something else? All a complex problem is, is a bunch of smaller ones tossed together."

"Wasn't I the one who told _you_ that?" Robin asked, groaning when all Gaius did was shrug in response. "I know, I know. I'm just worried."

"Why's that?" Kellam spoke up, having remained silent for a decent bit. "You're a great tactician. Heck, you've saved my skin plenty of times. People would think the stuff you did during the war was impossible."

"He's right." Gaius agreed. "Honestly if I was in Chrom's shoes, I'd pick you in a heartbeat."

"I just don't know if I'm _ready_." Robin admitted. "I've been with the Shepherds for a year now, that's it. I still can't remember anything from before I woke up in that field. How can someone like me be a military advisor?"

"How can someone like you be a tactician period?" Gaius answered back. "How can you use magic so damn well? How come you're so good with a sword? I dunno how, Bubbles. I really don't. But I do know you _are_ all of that."

"But if I screw this up, who knows the kind of damage I'll do?!" Robin shot back, voice raising from his own fear of failure. The others reeled back, caught off guard by the outburst.

That was, at the core of it all, why Robin didn't want to do this. What if he failed?

What if he didn't live up to everyone's expectations? What if he did a horrible job, and ended up turning the whole Ylissean military over? What if he couldn't handle himself in court? What if the other officers didn't follow through with his orders? What if he made life harder for the people of the country that'd adopted him when he had nothing?

What if all his successes so far had just been a fluke?

Silence reigned over them as they rode on. It wasn't until their destination that someone spoke up again.

The tavern was dark inside, only one light barely visible through the glass. Three horses were all tied up outside at a post. A sign hung above the door with the establishment's name, 'Natal's Ale House' painted on in luminescent yellow. Other than that the rest of the district seemed totally empty.

"Guess everyone must've gone to go see the parade." Robin observed.

The three hopped out of the wagon and approached the door. Robin held them back for a moment, speaking up again. "Let me do the talking, alright? I wanna get in and out fast."

"You lead, we follow." Gaius complied. Kellam nodded himself, and the three entered the building.

The inside of the place was… rather depressing honestly. Dark brown wood lined all of the walls, the floorboards creaked under their feet upon coming inside. Tables with chairs scattered through the room, each with an oil lamp resting on them. Nothing hung from the walls or ceiling, the absence of color being the most noteworthy thing. It felt so dim, dull and depressed.

The only source of life was three people sitting at a table, hoods over their heads as they mulled over a few drinks. That and the barkeeper.

"That's him, Petey." Gaius whispered.

The trio went forth to the man, standing at the counter and hovering around this apparent 'Petey'. He was casually wiping a tankard, looking up as these new patrons approached him.

"Did he send you?" The barkeeper asked Robin, who was standing in the center. Naturally, Robin assumed by 'he', he meant Gaius.

"Indeed." Robin answered clearly. "Do you have it ready?"

Petey placed the tankard down and shook his head, frowning at the tactician. "No, I don't."

Robin stood there, stunned. He couldn't believe it, they'd ridden all the way out here to get this blasted cake. It took them almost an hour to even find a wagon to transport the thing, let alone get here.

Mechanically, the tactician turned to face Gaius at his flank. The thief growled under his breath, beyond annoyed that he'd apparently paid this man for nothing. If anything he felt betrayed, this was one of his most reliable contacts for sweets _and_ information.

Kellam remained silent, growing more worried as he felt the fury building between the other two.

"What do you mean _you don't have it?_" Robin asked incredulously, raising his voice as he leaned forward on the countertop. "You had a month's notice to do this, how in the seven hells couldn't you be prepared when we came!?"

"These things take time." Petey answered cooly, not moving an inch. "If you give me a few days I'll have everything prepared."

"You. You-" Robin slammed both of his fists against the counter, knocking the tankard on the ground. "**We don't need it in a few days, you oaf! We need it now! Do you even realize how far we came for this!?"**

The barkeep remained stoic, unfazed by Robin's anger. The three people at the table behind them shuffled, standing up to their feet. Gaius, ever perceptive, took note.

As they began to come close, he sensed something… wrong, and slowly began to drag out his dagger from beneath his cloak. Kellam took a step back, letting the three interlopers walk past him unawares.

Robin continued on his tirade, not realizing what was going on behind him.

"**Do you think this is a joke!?" **The maddened Plegian roared, almost ripping the wood off from the bar as his fingers dug deep. "**I am **_**not**_ **leaving this place empty handed, damn it! If you don't have what we came for, you damn well better have an alternative!"**

"How's this for an alternative." A new voice hissed into his ear. Something sharp prodded his spine.

Robin tensed, his head finally turning to see what had occured behind him.

The three figures had positioned themselves. One holding what he assumed to be a blade to his back. The other was hovering over his shoulder, hissing at him. The third was behind Gaius, clearly keeping a knife leveled at his side.

An ambush. Gaius' source was now trying to mug them. Maybe he _would_ kill the man after this.

Still, he had a trump card. Robin relaxed once more and recomposed himself, deciding to simply retake control of the situation.

"If you'd be so kind, Kellam." He requested.

"Kellam?" The voice chirped in surprise.

Without warning, two voices shrieked. The stealthy knight retook his position, grabbing two of the assailants by the neck and hoisted them high above the floor. Gaius took advantage of the confusion and grabbed the figure behind him, throwing them down onto the ground and pressing his own weapon against their neck.

Amused, Robin turned around and saw the two flailing in Kellam's tight grasp. Their feet desperately kicked at air, trying to hit either him or their captor to no avail.

"Now then." Robin asked as he turned to face Petey, who was now defensively clutching what looked to be an older iron blade. His footing was clearly off, likely due to some injury. Robin merely drew out his Arcthunder tome, opening the thing and letting the pages flutter. His hand began to glow an electric yellow.

Seeing that he was apparently dealing with a mage, Petey aptly dropped the blade and lifted his hands in surrender.

The Plegian smiled, letting the spell die out.

"Wonder who these jerks are, trying to jump us over a damn cake." Robin muttered, leaning down to look at the person still pinned by Gaius. He grabbed the hem of their hood and tore it back, revealing their face and expecting to see some scarred thug.

He was instead greeted by a red headed trickster's wide eyes.

Robin went mute, his skin turning as white as his own hair. Gaius balked, pulling his own hood back as he spoke the merchant's name "Anna?"

"Gaius!?" Anna exclaimed, sharing the thief's startled expression.

Robin took a few steps back, stumbling into one of the stools. He then pulled his own hood back, then looked to the now no longer struggling persons that Kellam held. Quickly he came over, revealing their faces as well.

Cordelia and Sully both glared down at him, tomato red in both embarrassment and fury.

Robin remained there, still as a statue. His jaw hitting the floor.

* * *

Hours later, the six of them now resided within the wedding's reception hall.

The rest of the day had gone on with no more surprises. Petey's wife had delivered on the promise of the cake. A five layer tower that was nearly as tall as he was, which had at this point almost completely been consumed by the multitude of guests. Everyone had praised the reclusive baker for a superb job, demanding to be given a reference so they could place their own orders.

Robin had no idea how a smuggler's wife had learned how to design and create such a thing, but he wasn't complaining now.

Sumia received her jewels gladly, thanking Anna endlessly on how she had managed to acquire such things. Anna merely laughed, going on about how the Secret Sellers never failed to provide a product to their clients. She then proceeded to offer a lump some of gold as a dowery, wishing the best fortune to the bride and groom.

Cordelia hid her smile. Both for her best friend's happiness and Anna's relinquishing of the gold, even if it looked like it caused the merchant physical pain.

The bride and groom were currently dancing amongst the crowd, completely oblivious to what had occured behind the scenes of their big day. Everyone involved swore to never mention what happened from sheer mortification of what had occured. They laughed, drunk and made merry, socializing with the various guests. The other Shepherds were mixed into the retenue, each enjoying themselves in their own way.

Robin and Cordelia sat off to the side, away from the pomp and circumstance. The two coordinators were indulging themselves in a needed break.

"I am never going to another wedding." Robin declared, Cordelia giggling at the man as she sipped at her glass of wine. He sat there in his usual Plegian coat, a dress shirt and slacks worn underneath. "I mean it! No more, I refuse! This whole circus has made me swear off these things."

"Oh don't be so dramatic. Ignoring the early stumbles, things have gone very well. The ceremony was perfect, Libra did a wonderful job officiating. The parade went off without a hitch, and this reception is going lovely." Cordelia admonished. She herself wore the light purple dress that each of the bridesmaids possessed, sleeveless and with a purple sash at the waist. A white flower was pinned to her chest, marking her as the maid of honor. "A red letter day, to be sure."

"Ugh…" Robin groaned, slouching in his chair as he swirled his own glass. "Fine. But I'm never helping run these things."

Cordelia smirked, taking another sip. "Good. Because I doubt you'd be able to weasel out of Kellam and Sully's, lest you face her wrath."

The man shuttered, remembering what had happened right before they'd left the tavern.

Rourke did in fact arrive, with a group of thugs armed with clubs and axes. After Anna had informed Gaius of the situation, he readily agreed to stay and assist his old informant. The six of them stood there while the weedy man spoke about how he was disappointed about not receiving his money back.

Then, he'd made a pass at Sully.

Kellam promptly broke the man's face. The rest of them subdued Rourke's lackeys in what was effectively a tavern brawl, using chairs and tables as blunt weapons.

After that they'd deposited them at the jailhouse on their way back to the palace.

"After today, I think both of them scare me beyond belief now." Robin admitted.

The two continued chatting about the day's affairs, before moving onto other topics. Life after the war, the new inventory in the castle's armory, a local bookshop that had reopened after reconstruction. During the War, they had these discussions regularly when in camp. But afterwards, neither had the opportunity. Both were pulled away by various duties and requests.

They relished the chance to finally catch up.

Time began to pass as the night started to wind down. Afternoon became dusk, the sun fell, and the party continued well into the night. Both remained as they were, happy to remain in the quiet hidden amongst all the chaos.

And eventually, of course, they reached the topic of their respective offers.

"So we're both in the same pickle." Cordelia observed, their table now littered with empty plates and glasses. A candle now burned in the center, one of many lights which illuminated the room. "I can't believe they dropped this on both of us today of all days."

"They're both a lot more clever then we give them credit for." Robin muttered, downing his new drink. Gregor had done the rounds, pouring everyone a glass of old Feroxi ale. The stuff burned going down, but it was strong. And he needed strong.

"Hrm." Cordelia grumbled, tapping her fingertips against the table. "They'll need to be. Running a nation isn't easy. No wonder they're getting as much help as possible."

"True." Robin mused, setting his mug down as he breathed through his nose and tried to focus. "So what are you going to do? Accept the offer?"

"I don't… I don't know." Cordelia admitted, eyes becoming downcast as the thought once again invaded and occupied her mind. "I should, shouldn't i? Most Knights need to serve for years before even getting the chance."

"This isn't a case of 'should you', it's a case of do you want to." Robin corrected.

Cordelia slowly nodded, taking in the man's words as she tried to process her thoughts. "...What I want. Hm. What _do_ I want?" The woman sighed, leaning forwards and resting her head in her hands. Her cheeks were pressed up, forcing her to look like she was pouting childishly. Those ruby orbs of hers wandered across the the ballroom, searching for an answer.

They found themselves resting on the bride and groom, having reunited and taken to another dance in the center of the floor. Both spun around with grace and skill, not even once seeming that Sumia was about to topple them. Chrom seemed to be in his one world as they flowed seamlessly between their fellow dancers. They were one, perfect unit. Two parts of a whole that seemed so natural it was as if they were always together.

Longing bounced in her breast at the sight. Once upon a time she was sure her the target of her desire was the blue haired man.

And yet, now of all times, she couldn't place it.

Robin's eyes followed Cordelia's, his whole body turning so he could see just what exactly she was staring at so intensely. Once he caught notice, his eyes softened as he saw his closest friend maneuvering with such bliss.

That same longing struck him as well.

"Still not over it, huh?" Robin asked, turning back around to face his companion.

Cordelia sighed, still gazing off. "In truth Robin, I'm not sure if I am or if I am not."

Robin's eyebrow shot up in question, bringing his mug back to his mouth as he let the woman explain her thoughts.

"I've recently come to realize I've spent five years of my life pining over a man whom I almost never spoke a word with." Cordelia solemnly admitted. "That entire time I had an endless amount of chances to try, and chose to not because I was simply either too afraid or too guileless."

She turned to look at Robin, her flaming red irises meeting his darkened purple. "Then when I finally was forced to do so, I fainted."

"Metaphorically, of course." Robin assured as he continued to drink, smirking at the play on words.

Only then did he realize that Cordelia's visage began to match that of when Kellam had blindsided herd. "No. _No._ You did _not_ actually faint."

As her embarrassment intensified, he began to laugh. Robin howled, beside himself at the image. Cordelia fumed, this time actually pouting childishly before grabbing a mutton bone from a plate and hurling it at the man's forehead.

Her shot was true, and Robin's head snapped back at the impact. That quickly shut the man up, rubbing the wound as he already felt a lump forming.

"_As I was saying_." Cordelia continued, opting to hide her regret at striking the man impetuously. "Then after that we actually spoke. At first I was flustered, then time past and when I was finally able to suppress my insecurities-"

The woman leaned back into her chair, her perfect posture slouching unceremoniously. "He wasn't the man I thought he was. The feelings I had for him just… slowly faded. I still respect him to no end, but…"

"You figured out you loved the idea of Chrom, not Chrom." Robin laid out in plain language, his face again curling up into a smile. Sympathetic this time, not one of schadenfreude.

"Maybe." Cordelia hummed. "Or maybe my mind's such a mess that I can't tell the difference."

She shook her head. A servant passed the two, and swiftly refilled the woman's wine glass as she herself began to drink away. "What if I hurt them?"

"Who, Chrom and Sumia?" Robin asked.

Again, her head shook. "Not just them. The new Pegasus Knights. You know how harsh of a taskmaster I am."

"Reason why I'm never picking up a lance again." Robin quipped.

"Har har." Cordelia droned sarcastically. But inside she thought of her conversation with Sumia during the campaign. How she had brutishly attempted to force the woman into forsaking her ridiculous flower fortunes. "What if I drive them too hard? What if I break them? The Knight-Captain needs to be someone respected, not feared."

"You won't." Robin responded nonchalantly.

"And how are you so sure?" Cordelia questioned.

"Because you're aware of the risk and don't want it to happen." He answered. "Cordelia, you are without a doubt one of the strongest people I have ever met. Ignoring your skill, you survived events that would have broken _veteran_ soldiers. Mentally and physically mind you."

"Sometimes I wonder if I really survived." She mumbled dejectedly.

"You did." Robin affirmed without hesitation. "Cordelia, you're many things. Harsh, brutal, judgemental, self-deprecating and frankly rather depressing."

"Gee, thanks."

"You're also a kind soul who just wants people to be _better_." He pressed on through the interject. "Everything I've ever seen you do was for that purpose. Even when it caused you suffering, you still went through with it to the best of your ability. You aren't perfect, yes. But perfection is _impossible_."

The tactician smirked. "No one else on the continent could take such a role."

Cordelia sat there, absorbing the man's words. She scanned the Plegian, taking him in as he sat before her. All of his own traits, skills and flaws.

She thought of the times past where they had discussed, both when he had comforted her after her joining Chrom's Company and when she had supported him after Lady Emmeryn's murder. She remembered how he had hated himself as much as she had hated herself. The anger, the frustration, the grief and failure.

She remembered how he used to look at the Exalt. It was just as how she had once viewed Chrom.

Then after that she remembered the times he spent driving the Shepherds to their limits during drills. How he constantly looked after their well beings, and took it as his own personal duty to guard each of their lives above even his own.

"You're ready to be the Grandmaster." Cordelia said without prompting, grinning from ear to ear. "No one else on the continent could take such a role."

Robin blinked as his own words were turned against him. His reflex was to protest at the vote of confidence, just as he had with those prior. But this time he couldn't find it in him to do so.

As he looked at the woman's eyes, he didn't see a soldier. He didn't see a prodigy hailed across the Halidom. He didn't even see Cordelia specifically.

All he saw was a peer. Perhaps the one true peer he had.

And that alone made him happy.

"I think you very well may be right."

* * *

**_A/N: Time for a new story. Well, stories. A bunch of loosely connected anthologies, we'll call them. With some romance and comedy along the way._**

_**o/**_


	2. C-2: In With the New

When Robin woke, his head was banging like a drum.

The Plegian was sleeping in a horse trough, arms and legs dangling outside while his hand clutched a mostly empty bottle. The smell of hay and dung tickled his nose as he began to stir back awake, drowsiness parting away from his head at a slow pace.

His skin felt cold and clammy, and surrounding him were the hung-over groans of other men who seemed to be of a similar state. The suit he'd been wearing for the wedding was now soaked through, and he could feel a cold coming along.

Robin grunted as he shakily pulled himself up, surveying the scene. Lukewarm water sloshed about, pouring from his sleeves and onto the ground beneath him. They were in set of pegasus stables. Beams of harsh light were pouring through splits between the wooden walls.

Stahl was face down in the dirt, his bottle resting on it's side totally drained of spirits. He rolled onto his back, shielding his face as the sun accosted him.

Vaike was, somehow, in the rafters. Hanging by his limbs above his fellow drunken bachelors, muttering oddities under his breath. Whatever dream he was having mentioned something about dragons and loneliness.

Gregor, the old mercenary they'd recruited on the march to save Emmeryn, was passed out snorting on the back of a white winged beast. The creature was being rather careful with him, almost cradling the scarred warrior with her folded wings.

And finally there was Lon'qu, the Feroxi blade-master. He was slumped over a stable door, yet another pegasus gently nudging his unresponsive body with her snout. Both his hands were empty, but between all of them both he and Gregor reeked of alcohol the most.

"What… happened?" Stahl mumbled, giving up in his attempt and letting his arm lazily fall to the ground with a defeated 'thump.' "Where are we? What day is it?"

Robin was about to open his mouth to respond, when the rafters above them creaked loudly. As he looked back up, he was greeted by the Vaike's form dipping forwards, then slipping off entirely. A loud crash filled the building as the blond fighter went into a wagon filled with hay, the wheels and wood splintering on impact and falling apart.

This noise was enough to make both Gregor and Lon'qu both shoot awake themselves, the former clinging onto his protective mount for dear life while the latter somehow managed to combat roll off of the door and into the middle of the scene.

A few seconds of silence pass before Vaike groans loudly. Robin signs in relief knowing the drunkard hasn't expired.

"Lon'qu, grab him while I get my head to stop spinning…" The Plegian asks, to which his respondent grunts and moves over towards the dilapidated wagon. Stahl stood up himself, offering the mercenary a helping hand up to his feet.

Meanwhile Robin tried to think back to why they were even here.

* * *

His oldest memory was late in the evening, after both he and Cordelia decided to retire to their rooms. With all of the running across town, the ceremony and the seemingly endless after party, Robin was readily waiting for the sweet embrace of his mattress.

At least he was, before Sumia intercepted him just as he was leaving the ballroom. The newlywed quickly latched onto his arm and dragged him off to a dark corner. One out of sight from everyone else present.

The conversation started off cordially. He offered his congratulations, complimented her jewels (Of which Cordelia had agonized for ages about prior), asked her if everything had gone according to their wishes, and listened to her speak about the different nobles who'd come far and wide to grace the affair.

Then, the conversation took a turn. Namely towards his offered position.

"Chrom told me you weren't sure yet." She had said sweetly, hands held together at her center like a proper noblewoman. In fact the woman had been acting like the epitome of high birth through the day, Robin couldn't think of one time she'd fallen flat on her face.

He frankly couldn't tell if it was a miracle or some sort of witchcraft, but it still made him oddly… uncomfortable. The whole conversation did.

Still, he knew that this discussion wasn't one he could avoid. Best to deal with it now so he could get some rest.

"I'm still thinking it over." He admitted, hands casually resting in the pockets of his cloak. He hadn't dressed particularly well for the occasion, much to Maribelle's lament. A pair of dress slacks and a ruffled undershirt, paired with his usual Grimleal overcoat.

"Is there something that's making you hesitate?" The pegasus knight prodded, her head tilting ever so slightly to accentuate the innocence in her voice. "We both think you're perfect for the job! Really, we wouldn't trust anyone else with something this important!"

"You're flattering me, Sumia." He answered honestly. "But… there's a few reasons why I'm taking my time with this.."

"Well, I'm sure I can help you with them." She insisted cheerfully. "Is it the workload? Because we can get you as many assistants as you need. I'm sure there's a few squires Frederick can loan you."

"What?" Robin asked, taken off guard by the offer. He quickly shook his head. "No, not at all. It's a big task, but I've already helped lead an Army before."

"Is it the pay then? I can see about increasing the rate." She said, not letting up on the matter.

"Chrom and I didn't even discuss a salary." Robin recalled, taking note to remember that point for later. An official position probably meant a rather large check at the end of each month.

"Then it must be the Shepherds." Sumia deducted. "Well, we're planning on helping everyone through this. So you don't have to worry about the group being left behind."

"There wasn't a doubt in my mind." He assured, smiling nervously. "But no, that's not it either."

Sumia's pleasant smile then turned into a depressed frown, the same expression one would see worn by an injured puppy. "Then what's the matter?"

Robin weighs whether to tell the Queen to be the full story or not. In any other circumstances, he would've readily. Sumia wasn't just a Shepherd, she was one of his closest friends next to Chrom, Virion and Cordelia. But this particular situation simply unnerved him, being spirited away into an isolated space.

He'd never taken Sumia to be one to be so… _commanding. _Was she always like this, behind the smiles and the ditziness?

That idea actually made his friend seem far more sinister.

"I was just thinking about other paths to take." He informed her, which was half true. Before Chrom dropped this surprise onto him, his initial plans had been to spend some time investigating his origins. He very well couldn't do that while also help run a nation.

Sumia's frown only grew with that, from saddened to annoyed. "Someone else wants your help?" She queried, the fabric of her gloves tensing as she clenched her hands tighter together.

Robin laughed nervously, coming to realize that he was in the company of a person who was both now _extremely powerful_ and _unhappy._ Those two factors never mixed well with one another.

"Well, Flavia did ask me to help her reorganize the Feroxi." He admitted. 'Reorganize' was being kind, it implied there was any structure or standard to work from. Ylisse's militia, as rag tag as it was, at least followed a standard chain of command. Their northern allies, however, seemed to operate more in autonomous war parties guided by whoever was the reigning Khan.

That was the spark that seemed to light Sumia's eyes ablaze, any and all cheerful pretense thrown out the window as she dove into a full glower.

"That little-" She started, before cutting herself off. "She _told us_ that they wouldn't need any assistance from our people. Even Basilio thought they would be fine!"

"Perhaps, but she _did_ make me this offer before the final battle." Robin enlightened, to which Sumia just gave him a dismissive wave. The knight moved past him, lightly pushing him aside so she could look out to the ballroom floor.

Robin stepped out himself, following her gaze to see it was fixated right atop the Eastern Khan in question, involved in what looked to be a rather intense drinking contest between herself, Basilio and Gregor.

"Uh… Sumia?" He asked.

"I'm gonna go over there and give her a piece of my mind." Sumia declared. "This wasn't in the treaty we signed, Ferox already got it's part of the reparations. She does _not_ get you as well."

"I don't think that's necessary." Robin pointed out, but his words went in one ear and out the other.

"Oh it's completely necessary." Sumia affirmed. "She comes to _my_ wedding, planning this? You know what? I'm kicking her out, where are the guards!?"

"Sumia!" Robin cried, grabbing the woman by the arm and pulling her back just as she began marching back out onto the floor. When he spun her back around, the woman's glare was lethal. He could feel her gaze stab him right in the chest, all life and resistance pouring out of him like a gaping wound.

"I a-already t-turned her down." Robin said, shirking away deeper into the corner. Both his hands were raised in a very clear sign of surrender to the soldier turned monarch.

Those words were enough, at least. As quick as she'd turned before, Sumia's usual disposition reasserted herself. The flames behind her irises died in an instant, her stiff posture relaxing to the one she had taken when they were first speaking. Her very aura sapped the malevolence out of the air, leaving only the quiet bookworm he was used to.

"Oh." She answered unceremoniously. "Well, that's great! I didn't want you making any rash choices."

The Plegian swallowed the urge to inform her she was practically bullying him into another rash choice, but at this point that would have been like jabbing a grizzly bear. So he just smiled and nodded, opting to keep his hide attached.

Sumia came forward with that, wrapping her arms around the man and bringing him in for a quick hug. "Make the choice that's best for you, OK?" She whispered, pulling back to look him directly in the eye. "Chrom and I want you to do this, but we won't force you. Just please, please think about it. Now that the Shepherds are gone, we don't want everyone to become a stranger."

The emotional whiplash aside, Robin didn't run away from the embrace. Even if it was embarrassing that he was being hugged by both a royal _and_ a married woman. On the night of her wedding, too. He silently thanked the Gods they weren't in eyesight of anyone.

So he returned the hug, leaning a bit into it and resting his chin on her shoulder. "I know. And I'm honored. But I still need to think it over. Chrom asked me _this morning_, and honestly I'm still processing the documents he gave me."

Sumia sighed in defeat, breaking off the hug and nodding. "Well… alright. Just promise me you'll relax for the rest of the night. You and Cordelia put a lot of effort into this whole thing, and I honestly can't thank you enough."

"A new set of books to read in my room. We'll start with that." Robin joked, earning a light giggle from the third member of his little reading ring. "Don't worry about it. Neither of us were going to leave you both high and dry."

Sumia could only smile at the man, unable to truly convey the gratitude she felt. Robin had been a source of closure for her since she joined the Shepherd frontline, and even now he helped keep her steady. Between him and Cordelia, they were the biggest supports she had outside of her family.

The two of them walked out from their domicile, back into the view of all the remaining partygoers. The ballroom, even now as it was well past midnight, was still crowded with guests of all shapes and sizes.

Robin was just about to leave once more, when he suddenly heard his name called in the distance. He turned to see seven figures surrounding a fresh keg, each of them with a mug in hand. Gaius specifically was calling at him, waving for him to join in.

Part of him wanted to leave then, his bed was only a few hallways away.

...But a few drinks wouldn't hurt, right?

* * *

It turned out to be far more than a few drinks. That keg was full of even more Feroxi fire ale, which Vaike and Gregor had managed to 'borrow' from the wagon train Basilio had brought in for the festival.

One round of spirits became two.

Two became four.

Soon, a drinking contest rose between them.

Stahl and Donnel bowed out first at their sixth mug.

Then Vaike, Anna and Robin at the seventh.

Followed by Gaius, and _Lissa_ of all people at the ninth. Robin was still embarrassed at being out drunk by a teenager. A small, delicate one at that.

And it kept going, and going, and going…

Panne passed out unconscious some time after her twelfth mug. Lon'qu alongside her.

It wasn't until Gregor, somehow, reached his twentieth glass before a winner was finally declared. With barely anyone able to bother trying to contest it.

Then someone had said something about going to their rooms. And of course, with all of them completely plastered, they'd ended up scattered. With Robin and his current company somehow thinking that the Pegasus stables were really the Shepherds barracks.

Robin, being the first to regain all of his mental faculties, gave his friends a quick look over to see if everything was alright. For the most part all anyone had was a murderous headache. Gregor had a fresh bruise from his short tumble, meanwhile Vaike had gone and broken his arm.

He instructed Lon'qu and Stahl to take their battered comrades to the Chapel that was on the Palace's grounds. Libra would likely be there to tend to their wounds.

Meanwhile he went off to search for the other missing Shepherds. Because if _he_ ended up spending the night asleep in a drinking trough, the others likely didn't fare much better.

That, and if anything had happened to Lissa, Chrom would probably skewer him.

So he stumbled through the halls of the palace, tactically ducking behind each pillar and dome he could to avoid the agonizing rays of the sun. The various castle workers eyed him with both confusion and worry, dodging out of his path to avoid being trampled. It made him feel like a drunkard, but then again he technically _was_ a drunkard at this very moment.

Somehow, he managed to retrace his steps back to the ballroom. The usually regal room was now a near wasteland. Torn streamers and decorations littered the tables and floor, with maids and butlers still running about trying to fix everything the way it was. Broken plates and stained tapestries, upturned chairs and a smell that would put a farm to shame.

He'd expected there to be an aftermath to the festivities, but looking upon it all now, it felt like any other war zone the Shepherds had stumbled themselves through.

Robin pushed that bit of black humor aside and trudged through the mess. At least his headache was finally lifting.

The tactician helped where he could before moving back to his objective, picking up a stack of silverware and handing it off to one of the maids. He righted a few chairs, tossed some litter into a trash can. And was about to leave when he found himself back at the table they'd spent the night drinking.

Which is where he found the blonde Princess of the realm, fast asleep on the table. Her own bridesmaid dress now crumbled beyond belief, and an empty tankard of ale limply rocking next to her head.

"The Royal is fine, before you blow a gasket." A voice spoke behind him, causing Robin to jump near out of his skin and clench onto the table.

He spun around to see, of all people, Panne. The taguel held a stack of plates at her center, with a white apron also worn over her usual battle armor. Robin marveled at how a single article of clothing could make someone so fearsome now appear so… homely.

Panne's face put on a knowing smirk, her hair-braided ears relaxing. "Once again your heartbeat jumps in my presence. For man-spawn that is a sign of being smitten, no?"

"Or being utterly terrified." Robin answered back, glowering as he stood upright again. "Do all Taguel walk so quietly, or is this just a you thing?"

"Yes." She answered vaguely, moving over and setting the stack of dirtied china next to the sleeping cleric. "I have been keeping watch over her since I woke from last night's… festivities."

Robin sighed in relief, glad that someone had been watching over the healer in his absence. Not even counting the wrath of her older brother, if anything had happened to the blonde girl he'd never be able to forgive himself.

At least she hadn't been 'escorted' to some sleazy Baron's bed, like he'd feared. Getting into the good graces of a Princess was probably on too many people's bucket lists.

"What's with the apron?" Robin asked, hoping he wasn't touching on a soft spot. He could _feel_ his heart thumping again, knowing that it was a poor idea to insult the Taguel.

She looked at him for a moment, clearly taking note of his rising stress. "Why are you upset? It is a simple question."

"Some people might take it as embarrassing." He explained, his words cautious.

"What is supposed to be embarrassing about a simple chest protector?" She asked, shaking her head. "Humans, always finding new reasons to cause avarice."

Robin groaned, his head lolling back. "Fine, forget the apron. Why did you stay behind to keep an eye on Lissa?"

The shapeshifter snorted, looking to the still sleeping beauty while putting a hand on her hip. "Remember, my people owe her bloodline a debt. I am merely honoring it."

"Cut and dry, just like that?" Robin muttered, thinking her words over before moving next to Lissa. The Plegian would go down on a knee, where he would then pinch the Princess' nose down. Panne watched on, curious as to why he was doin such an… _odd_ gesture.

Only to watch him jump back as Lissa sprung to life, eyes wide as saucers and her head turning back and forth as she tried to realize where she was.

"Risen!" The Cleric cried. "Monkeys!? _**Risen riding monkeys!"**_

While the blonde girl had herself a proper panic attack, the silver haired man behind her was beside himself in laughter. Robin was doubled over, busting his gut as he clutched at his abdomen.

Lissa, figuring she was still in the ballroom, turned to see Panne, then Robin. Afterwards she pouted, marched over and started flailing her clenched fists at the man's back.

"Big- Dumb- Jerk!" She jeered with each successive hit. "I oughta get you thrown in the dungeon!"

Thankfully for Robin, Lissa's hits didn't have much force behind them. Still, he lifted a hand, trying to block the strikes as she threw them. "S-sorry! Sorry! I couldn't resist!"

"You- Total- **hypocrite!"** Lissa said, landing one last punch before she stopped. Robin was still enjoying, but at least it the laughs were dying down to a chuckle.

The Princess pouted, turning her back to the Plegian before looking back to Panne. She then tilted her head, perplexed. "Uh… Panne? Why are you in an apron?'

Robin snickered at the question, the Taguel shooting him a rather murderous glare to silence the tactician once and for all. "Olivia and I have been assisting the servants. Considering we aided in the making of this mess, it only felt just."

Good for good, that seemed like as Taguel a reason as any other Panne would use.

Robin straightened himself out, checking for any pock marks in his coat before speaking again. "Lissa, I'd go wash up if I were you. You drank _a lot_ last night."

"I did?" Lissa asked, lifting a hand to her mouth and blowing so she could smell her own breath. Her face visibly twisted in disgust, turning over her shoulder and hacking as the beer breath hit her full force. "Oh… Gods, it's like I ate mold."

"Technically, ale and mold are made the same way." Robin pointed out, making Lissa shudder even more.

"Ugh… alright, I'm headed to my room." She said, starting off before jabbing a finger at Robin. "And you, sleep with one eye open! I'm gonna prank you _good_ for that!"

Now it was Robin's turn to blanche as he realized what he was in store for. Before he could even offer a plea for forgiveness, she was gone, moving into one of the many hallways. So the man stood there, dejected at what was soon to come to his future.

Panne merely smiled in the direction her ward had left, something Robin took note of. "...You like her."

The shapeshifter looked at him again with a glower, but seemed less keen to eviscerate him. "A dubious claim, man-spawn."

Robin simply rolled his eyes, moving to stand next to the woman and slipped his hands back into his coat. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, Panne. Lissa's a great person."

Panne grumbled something non-committal, undoing the straps of her apron and placing it onto the table behind them. "She reminds me much of her sister." Panne admitted. "Kind, but also… vibrant? She has Lady Emmeryn's grace, but also feels so alive. Far more chaotic."

Robin nodded along, agreeing with the assessment. "Yeah. She's… she'll be a good leader when she gets older. I can feel it."

"Indeed." Panne hummed, her eyes shifting. "And you, Tactician? How do you fare in that regard?"

Robin laughed once more, this time dry and curt. "I just do what Chrom asks me."

"You mistake deprecation for humility." The rabbit pointed out, arms folded casually over her armored chest. "He may lead us, man-spawn. But _you_ are the one who advises him. That is leadership in itself."

Robin just shrugged, neither confirming or denying the woman's words. The neutrality seemed to merely incense the warrior, snarling. "I can smell your indecision. What hangs over you?"

The fact that her species were so good at reading people was a blessing and a curse depending on the moment, and right now it felt like the latter. "Something I need to talk to Chrom about." He admitted. "He wants me to keep making plans for the Military, even after Plegia."

"Fah, 'even.' You mean because." Panne answered, narrowing her eyes. "You managed to defeat an army that tripled the Exalt's in size, Plegian. Remember that."

"With Feroxi help." Robin demanded, an edge in his voice. "And we didn't win because of me. If the Plegians didn't defect en-masse, the war would've ended a lot differently."

"And yet we all left that blasted desert alive when none of us had any business in doing so." Panne pointed out, jabbing a finger into the man's shoulder. "You did well, fool. Stop acting otherwise, it aggravates me."

"Everything aggravates you." Robin grumbled, pulling his elbow away.

"Only stupidity does, which you are currently providing an ample supply of." Panne shot back. "Remember who is speaking to you. If you were truly as incompetent as you believe, why would _I_ follow your orders? I'd have sooner disemboweled your entrails."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." Robin answered with fatigue. Though his disposition did lift with the Taguel's words. Panne was, if nothing else, blunt. She never gave anything than her viewpoint, which paired with her good judgement of character and natural senses, meant she was worth listening to.

She merely grunted in response, looking back out towards the ballroom. "So, why were you looking for the Royal?"

"I'm just checking up on everyone from last night." Robin explained with a slight shrug. "Do you know where the others are?"

"Olivia is still in the kitchen." Panne informed. "I believe Frederick went to speak with Chrom as he usually does. Sumia is also likely with him."

Robin nodded along. "Anyone else you know about?"

"Maribelle, Kellam, Sully, Ricken, Cordelia, Libra and Tharja all left prior." She continued. "I do not know of the others."

He made a note to keep on the watch for Gaius and Anna, but offered the woman a grateful smile. "Thanks, Panne."

The Taguel huffed, taking hold of the plates. "I need to return to my duties. You do yours, and speak with Chrom about this… 'planning' business."

As she left, Robin lolled behind for a few moments to think about where the others could be. The palace was a sprawling complex, checking every room and hallway would take him the entire day. Maybe two.

This would be far easier if he had a second head to work with.

* * *

Unlike many of the other Shepherds, Cordelia had actually spent the night in her own bed.

She'd returned to her quarters without any fanfare, switching into her nightgown and falling asleep easily. Her mind drifted across the same points as usual. Flying atop Aurora, visiting her parents in her home Duchy, being promoted to Falcon Knight after so many years of training. Dreams, happy dreams.

Dreams that always seemed to shatter into nightmares.

Her border outpost lit ablaze. The Company's Captain screaming at her to go warn the Exalt and her family. Watching the Plegians overrun the small fort, skewering and massacring their way through all of her comrades.

She could still smell the ash and blood. The screams echoed in her head as she ran away.

After that came Plegia. More fighting, more blood, more death. Red splatters caking the yellow sand, her own lance coated in the sanguine of Gods knew how many men and women. Early on she'd thought revenge would stymie the guilt. It had the opposite effect, with each life she took she only felt herself falling further into the pits of damnation.

Then the castle courtyard. More fighting, more killing. Cutting their way through the Plegian honor guard so they could whisk the Exalt away from this horrible place. The crowd screamed then as well, all of the Plegian civilians scattering for cover as hell erupted around them.

Phila and the last of her sisters being turned to pincushions by a platoon of Risen archers.

Emmeryn throwing herself off of that cliff, the woman they'd come to save sacrificing her life to save _them._

Now shame joined the guilt. Shame and guilt she had to hide away for the sake of everyone else.

The march back to Regna Ferox felt like a lifetime. Each of the Shepherds marched and rode as if they'd been broken. Everyone was beyond crippled, emotionally and physically in some cases. They had to carry Lon'qu and Gregor out from the battle, both of them injured almost beyond saving.

The fact that the Feroxi had almost died to save a Ylissean monarch was irony not lost on any of them.

She did what she had always done in pain. Kept up a brave face, stern and resolute. Helping who she could in the camp through their slumps and struggles. Her problems didn't matter, they could wait. These were people who needed someone now more than ever.

The last image that passed through her mind was finding Robin, keeled over his own desk and sobbing himself into a stupor.

And with that, she woke.

Cordelia snapped up into a sitting position, eyes bulging from her skull and breath ragged. She could feel her throat constricting, her lungs on fire. As if the smoke had followed her from her dreams and into her bedroom.

In a panic, she looked around the room and ran for the window, ripping the curtains apart to see what was outside. She was met with a bright beam of sunlight, blinding her as she stumbled and covered her eyes.

Slowly, she felt her senses return to normal. The smoke disappeared. Her vision cleared as she parted her mess of hair away from her eyes. Her skin started to drink from the sun's warmth as it bathed her in it's yellow embrace. Cordelia's heart, thankfully, settled. No longer bursting from her chest.

She took a breath in, then a breath out. The Knight returned to the world, then went about readying herself for the day.

Cordela wished she'd grow more accustomed to these panic attacks. They'd lessened since the end of the war, but she still suffered them every waking morning. When in camp, the first time it'd occurred, her screaming had woken everyone. Chrom and Gaius both stormed into her tent, blades drawn expecting some kind of intruder.

Having to explain that mess was beyond humiliating. She doubted either of them believed her story about some cockroaches.

Cordelia left her room after dressing herself, the usual red sleeveless high-collared undershirt she wore under her armor. No gloves this time, no reason to have them on.

The Paragon accepted these nightmares, they were her penance. A reminder of her failure, a mark for her to bare until she found redemption. No more Philas, no more Emmeryns. No more needless killing.

She had a legacy to not only maintain, but revive from the ashes.

She was the last true Pegasus Knight. A title she held with solemn pride.

If anything that was the reason why she should jump at Chrom and Sumia's offer. It was a chance to breathe life back into the Order. Not only that, but to improve it. There were many problems with the way things used to be done, it was partially why they had all been laid so low.

The way Knights were recruited, the training process, the small size of their cadre, the lack of structure beyond company commands. All of it had been mired in the traditions of old, 'the way things were done'. And while she respected the traditions… there was a point where new ones should be made.

The idea of seeing squadrons of new Knights flying through the air was beautiful. Formations of winged horses and their riders soaring above in unison. Whether she was leading them, among them or merely watching from below, the idea almost brought her to tears.

Still… _her_ as Captain. She was only twenty one. If she was made a Falcon Knight, she'd be the youngest one in the Order's history.

She'd be the youngest Knight-Captain as well, and only by default.

The Knights inner thoughts were then interrupted by a rather loud snoring bursting into her consciousness. She scowled in the direction of the room next to her's, resisting the urge to bang on the wall.

Cordelia needed to think. And she had an idea where to do so.

The woman walked, returning greetings to the men and women she passed, until she reached the Chapel that rested within the Palace walls. The pews were empty, an errant Priest in the backdrop. Compared to the grand Basilica where the wedding had begun, simple brick building almost resembled a shack.

Cordelia sat in the middle row, locking her hands together and bowing her head. She began to speak in the old Archenean tongue Ylisseans used in their rites.

In truth it had been ages since she'd last paid a prayer. Her parents had raised her and her brother extremely devout, each weekend going to the Cathedral in Friga to partake in the sermons. But as she grew older, she'd… drifted away. No time, she rationalized. Other priorities.

It was like a homecoming, in an odd sense. The house of Naga felt warm and familiar.

"Cordelia?" A voice spoke to her side, prompting her to lift her head.

She was greeted by a smiling Libra, the blonde monk radiating the holy light of his profession as usual. Cordelia visibly relaxed as she registered it was a friend, and not some bystander she'd met Gods knows how long ago.

"This is a pleasant surprise." The holy man declared. "I don't recall you coming to my services often during the campaign."

The redhead laughed nervously, averting her eyes towards the portrait of Naga that hung at the front of the room. "Yes. Well, I suppose I have lapsed in my duty to the Goddess, haven't I?"

Libra chuckled softly, gesturing to the spot next to the woman. "Would you mind if I joined you? Prayer with a friend is always better than doing so alone."

She readily agreed, moving down the row and leaving the man ample room for him to sit. He joined her, relaxing back into the wooden seat and turning his palms up as he began his own rites.

The two continued in their different postures, Cordelia bowing before the Goddess while Libra merely embraced her. Their speech mixed together, the Knight's sharp northern accent mixing with the southerner's soft prose.

Harmony, even if fleeting. Her early morning fear melting away for now.

As both finished their prayers, Libra exhaled and opened his eyes once more. "So, what brings you to the chapel? Are you seeking guidance from the Divine Mother?"

Cordelia nodded, mentally steeling herself. She didn't want to appear weak in front of another one of her companions, it hurt her enough that she used Robin and Virion as shoulders to cry on. "Asking for the strength to see things through."

"Oh?" He asked with interest. "And for what do you require this strength?"

Cordelia turned her head, eyeing the axe wielder with mild annoyance. "I thought Monks were supposed to be less nosey."

The man merely chuckled the barb off. "I said I sat with you as a friend, not a Monk. Unless you'd prefer otherwise?"

The Knight sighed, but shook her head. "No. I'm… glad you're here." She admitted. "It is nice to be amongst friends. While I was in training, the only real friend I had was Sumia. Now she's my Queen, of all things."

"Hm. And is this an issue?" Libra asked.

"...Yes, in a way." Cordelia admitted. "I never thought, in a thousand years, I would have to take orders from her. The very idea still confounds me."

"True." Libra admitted. "You are far more skilled than she is, I doubt anyone would protest that."

"She still trusts me." Cordelia noted with a dark scoff, dismissing Libra's false presumption. "After all that's happened, even with her new position, she still trusts _me_." The Knight repeated, playing with her thumbs as she thought that fact over. "What did I do to earn such faith from her?"

Libra opened his mouth to reply, when suddenly a loud crash could be heard from outside the chapel doors. A group of men screaming echoed into the empty chamber.

Both of the Shepherds inside gave one another a look, then quickly darted out the door to see what in the world was causing such a fuss.

Outside they found none other than Vaike, propped up on his elbows and scurrying back. In front of the fallen fighter was an enraged Lon'qu, the Feroxi myrmidon's arms being held back by both Stahl and Gregor while he tried in vain to lunge out of their grasp. All the while the cavalier and mercenary were clearly trying to talk him down from whatever sparked this confrontation.

Libra ran back inside, saying something about grabbing his stave, while Cordelia trounced forward and planted herself in between the wounded man and his assailant.

"**Quiet!"** The redhead roared, silencing all other parties and their squabbles. She mounted the same unamused glare she usually wore whenever chastising someone's recklessness. Each of the men present were intimately familiar with it already, and prepared for the worst.

"Stahl. Gregor." The woman began, turning to face then and pointing towards Lon'qu. "Why are you both holding onto him like that?"

"Uhm…" Stahl started, laughing nervously as he shirked away from the intense gaze that was now directed towards him. The normally mellow horseman felt like he was in an archer's crosshairs. "Well, uh… funny story. So, five of us got… _really_ drunk last night, and sorta slept in the Pegasus stables."

"You… **what**?" Cordelia demanded, her voice rising as all of the men took a clear step back the Knight grew tomato red. A million worst case scenarios ran through her mind, physically resisting the urge to run away from the whole debacle to check on the pegasus.

Meanwhile Stahl was more worried that she'd run through _them_. An angered Knight was never a fun thing to deal with, be it Cordelia, Sully, Sumia or Frederick.

The redheaded woman took a deep breath in, then out once more. She let her spike of rage mellow out, trying to think with a clear mind about what steps to take next.

"...Continue." She permitted.

Stahl gulped audibly, shooting a desperate glance at either Lon'qu or Gregor to pitch in. Lon'qu remained rather silent, his usual aversity towards the fairer sex now compounded. So instead Gregor spoke up, releasing his grip on the swordsman and walking forwards.

"Gregor promise that no harm was brought to horsies." The mercenary swore, hand over his heart. "However, Vaike had… unfortunate fall. Arm covered in many boo-boos."

"I'm fine!" The man in question called out, trying to push himself back up to his feet. To which Gregor merely sighed and made his way over, helping the man back up.

"He broke it." Stahl clarified, following Gregor's lead and releasing Lon'qu completely.

"I'll break his other one…" Lon'qu hissed out, rotating his shoulder as it was freed from its captivity.

Cordelia rolled her eyes, pressing her advantage and taking a few more steps forward. The Feroxi man clearly balked, his entire body freezing as he felt the woman draw closer and closer to him.

"Now, Lon'qu." Cordelia began in a sickly sweet tone, extending a hand to wrap it around the man's chin and bring his eyes level to hers. Beads of sweat were now actively forming across the brown haired man's brow. "Why in the world would you wish harm on your fellow Shepherd?"

Lon'qu's natural response was to turn away. Hell his natural response was to dodge as far back as he could. If it wasn't for the fencing lessons he'd been giving the woman, that likely would have happened.

But instead he stood, actively trying to swallow his phobia while the woman kept an iron hold on his jaw. Too tight for him to properly speak, even.

Realizing this, Cordelia released the man, to which he promptly took yet another step back. "Thank you…" He muttered, rubbing his chin.

"You're welcome." She answered. "Now, explain."

Lon'qu grunted, pointing a finger towards the now uprighted Vaike. "This cad tried to challenge me to yet another one of his foolish duels."

"They ain't foolish, ya git! They're tests to see if you're worthy!" Vaike called out, wincing as a shot of pain traveled up his cracked arm. Gregor stood loftily to the side, snickering at the sight and shaking his head.

"Vaike is too brash! He try to pick fight while still injured." The mercenary explained, jutting a finger towards the myrmidon. "He shares temper with grumpy one there."

Lon'qu merely huffed at the notion, while Cordelia looked towards her sparring partner in disappointment. "Lon'qu, since when do you fight injured opponents? That isn't what I'd call honorable."

"He threw the first punch, after prattling on about his 'dream' the entire way here." Lon'qu informed, clearly still extremely annoyed at the affair. "I had no intention of further continuing the conflict."

"Could've fooled us, the way you were looking at him." Stahl chirped, rubbing the back of his neck. "Seriously, when we grabbed on you started flailing like a leashed wyvern!"

"Did you ever stop to think that was _because_ you took me captive?" He replied in kind, to which Stahl's cheeks turned rosey red in embarrassment.

Cordelia simply rolled her eyes again, one hand going to her hip as she gestured in the direction of the stables with the other. "You said there were five of you in the stables. I only see four of you. Was someone left behind?"

The cavalier shook his head. "Robin went into the castle looking for the other guys who got roped into our drinking contest."

"That wasn't a contest, it was a massacre." Vaike pointed out, nodding his head towards Gregor. "I swear, this guy. He ain't human."

"Gah, is natural tolerance!" Gregor declared, laughing heartily at the fighter and slapping him on the back. Vaike nearly doubled over from the force, but managed to not tumble back onto the ground.

The pegasus knight sighed, taking this chance to stalk off towards the stables where the horses were. The horses were probably scared beyond belief after the performance her comrades had carried out in their own sleeping quarters.

Honestly, sometimes she felt like a glorified babysitter.

* * *

With how often he dallied after the others, Robin wondered if he could add 'babysitter' to the list of duties he carried out for the Company.

This wasn't the first time he'd struck out to watch over his fellow soldiers. That had been the after party in Ferox, when Chrom had managed to best Marth in the Kingdom's tournament. That night was forever ingrained in his mind, the utter havoc that had been carried out by both the Shepherds and natives

He had spent the entirety of the next day digging them all out of those snow covered hills, how in the seven hells they managed to both wander from the Khan's palace and not catch frostbite was beyond him.

At least last night's happenings were nothing compared to that utter madness. Even with this drunken escapade, the wedding's reception seemed **tame.**

The tactician was currently retracing his steps, trying to find his way back towards the stables where he'd left the others. Partially to check and see if they'd actually followed his advice and taken Vaike to Libra to fix his arm, partially to try and enlist whoever was the most sober in helping him hunt down the remaining two people from the table. As far as he knew, almost everyone in their cadre had been accounted for.

He'd happened upon Virion trying his luck with yet another Handmaiden, throwing the most corny lines Robin had ever heard in his life at the unfortunate woman. He even managed to produce a rose from Gods knows where, going down on a knee to offer it. Worst part was, judging from how Robin had left the scene, it was working.

Miriel was, of course, already in the castle's archives. A large scroll and multiple inkwells, used and unused, sat next to her as she wrote down vast quantities of script. She'd mentioned something about writing a record of her discoveries during their campaign in Plegia, having found a blackish substance in the ground that appeared highly flammable. Most of the jargon flew far over even Robin's head, so he readily retreated away.

Nowi had been asleep, of all places, in the _homing pigeon_ _coup. _When Robin had managed to rose the sleeping dragon, her roaring yawn managed to panic every single bird resting in a cage. Both his coat and hair had been completely infested by feathers. The small dragon had told him she'd fallen asleep playing with a few of the creatures. After a long lecture about why disrupting the birds from their work, she'd left him to pick out what remained latched onto his form.

All that was left now was to find the two redheaded scoundrels of the group. After he conscripted an aide.

Robin pushed the doors open, shouting out into the housing with wild abandon. "**Alright, you numbskulls! Who's still here!?"**

His eyes then focused on two figures in the center aisle.

A large, pearl white pegasus stood with it's side to him. Both of its wings were folded together, nestling it's back. He knew the stead from many a time it'd saved his hide in the middle of combat.

Cordelia stood behind her mount, running a brush across it's back. At least she was, before both her and her grooming subject turned their heads to see who had barged themselves in their domicile.

Robin's head quickly swivel left and right, trying to spot if there were any other people also inside. Needless to say, there were none. For once the others had actually followed his instructions outside of battle.

Normally he'd be overjoyed, but at the moment he was more annoyed at how his expectation had made him look like a fool.

"Um…" Cordelia spoke, eyeing the new arrival with both confusion and her own irritation. She'd only just begun grooming Aurora's coat, the poor girl's fur was matted and mangled by something the night prior. It was as if something had laid atop her all night with no saddle.

Resisting the urge to groan, Robin walked towards the two with what energy he had left after running up, down and sideways across the palace. While this wasn't someone he was expecting, it was still someone who could offer him some kind of assistance. Even if it was just a nudge in the right direction.

"I'm sorry, Cordelia. I thought someone else would be here." The Plegian explained, boots crunching against the hay that sprawled upon the ground.

"You mean some people?" Cordelia replied, smirking as Robin's face morphed in confusion. "They're already at the chapel with Libra. I suppose you're the one who sent them there?"

Robin nodded, coming to a halt at the side of Aurora's head. He lifted a hand and ran it along her snout, happy whinny responding to the gesture. "Missed you too, girl."

Cordelia's smirk only grew from the gesture, her hands going back to continue the brushstrokes. "She likes you quite a bit. I've never seen her let any other man touch her like that."

"Oh I know what the ladies like." Robin said jokingly, moving to give his four legged friend a quick scratch behind the ears before pulling his hand back. A soft giggle danced into his ears from his human companion, her infectious smile spreading to him.

"Really now? I thought I was speaking to Robin, the man who bought Lissa _stockings_ for her birthday." She teased.

"Those were high quality stockings." The man playfully defended. "Are you insinuating otherwise, Miss Volkner?"

"Never in a million years." She replied, moving her down to spruce up the Aurora's flank. "That being said, I expect that cart to be fixed."

Robin grew perplexed again, before he looked back to the wagon that Vaike had crash-landed into. The damage was far more extensive than he recalled, the wheels having blown clear off the axles. Hay spilled out helter-skelter like water having erupted from a geyser.

"Blonde buffoon…" Robin muttered, his mood darkening before looking back towards the acting stable keeper. "I'll be sure to have Vaike fix it once his wounds have been attended to."

"I'd hope so, or else I'll place that responsibility onto you in his place." Cordelia informed, her tone still amused. Though Robin knew she would likely hold him to the deed if Vaike didn't deal with the issue.

Forget babysitter, at this rate he was more the Shepherds' personal butler rather than their tactician.

His was brought out from his sulking as he heard new footsteps come closer to him, his world clearing up to see Cordelia was now standing before him. The knight stood upon her toes, plucking a grey and white feather from the top of his head. She inspected the feather, curious about its.

Meanwhile, Robin realized something. This was the first time he'd ever seen Cordelia outside of her armor.

In battle, during marches, even in camp. He'd never once caught a glimpse of her without that silver steel cuirass of her's.

Her form was quite slender, fitting that of a rider. Both her pearl wing clips shined in the thin rays of sunlight that made their way through the wooden panels. Her arms and hands seemed toned but also elegant in their own rights. The high collar framed her face perfectly alongside her long bangs, red eyes vibrant as they focused on the object of interest. Her entire body seemed to be a grand canvas of red and white.

She looked amazing. Robin wondered why she seemed so keen in hiding herself behind war gear.

"This isn't a pegasus feather." Cordelia observed. "Shall I ask if a bird slept atop your head last night?"

Robin shook his head, laughing nervously. "No, not at all. I found Nowi asleep in the homing pigeon coups. Her waking startled… _all_ of the birds. At once."

"Oh dear." Cordelia mused, letting the feather fall to the ground once she was done. Her eyes fixed themselves on Robin's own. "And why were you looking for our Manakete companion?"

The tactician's mind popped, remembering why he'd even come back here in the first place. "I'm looking for all the Shepherds from last night! After the mess we caused I wanted to make sure that no one else ended up like Vaike and…"

"Hurt themselves while destroying royal property?" Cordelia finished.

"Amongst other things." Robin answered. "I've been looking everywhere. The ballroom, the spires, the throne room, Gods knows how many hallways. I even scavenged through the damned kitchens and servants quarters in case someone stumbled their way in there."

"Did you check the Shepherds barracks?" She asked him.

"Of course I checked the-" Robin began, the words registering in his mind as he was about to repeat them. The Shepherds barracks. The place where all of them had their own personal rooms. Where _everyone _would have tried to return to once they had finished with their festivities.

The Plegian groaned in frustration, covering his face with both hands as Cordelia's giggles renewed. She covered her mouth, trying to not perform outright schadenfreude at the man's dismay.

"Why am I not surprised the tactician decided to overthink something this simple?" She said, before walking past the man. Her elbow nudged into his side, prompting him to drop his hands and watch her as she moved away.

"And where are you going?" He asked.

"_We_ are headed to the barracks." She answered with a smile, hanging the brush onto a rack and beckoning for him to follow. "Clearly you need an escort, lest you overturn the entire city."

"Oh, har har." Robin answered, running up to follow the woman until he could match her pace at her side.

The walk to the barracks was rather short, simply cutting across one of the exterior courtyards to arrive at one of the older buildings within the compound.

A long time ago, the barracks had been the castle armory. Both the weapons of the Pegasus Knights and Royal Knights hung side by side in racks within the large building. However at some point, the armory had been shifted further in doors. With nothing but an empty building remaining, Chrom decided to convert it into his personal headquarters.

Both Robin and Cordelia made their way inside, making a quick sweep of the first floor. No one in the mess, kitchen, common room, war room or sub-armory. So the two moved to the second floor.

"When I had woken up, there was snoring coming from the room next to mine." Cordelia explained as they went up the small staircase, Robin at the front while she brought the rear. "So I know I wasn't the only person who made their way back here."

"We'll check there then. Maybe they're still inside." Robin deducted, reaching the top and shuffling his way through the hall as it expanded out from the narrow passageway. He couldn't remember who was bunked next to Cordelia, but at the moment it didn't matter. Information was information, and the sooner he could be done with this affair the better.

As the reached the room next to Cordelia's, she bade him to go on. He rapped his gloved hand against the doorway quickly, ready to call inside.

When the door sagged open on it's own, clearly unlocked. Confused, Robin pressed his hand against the wood and opened the door fully.

The bedroom was a complete and utter mess. Clothes were scattered across the floor and over furniture. A dartboard hung off the back wall, several knives embedded deep into the cork. An open bag of confections rested on the desk, along with a tall stack of coins and a brown shawl.

Underneath the bedspread, a figure yawned and sat up. Said figure was revealed to be none other than Gaius, his bandana haphazardly still tied across his forehead. His chest was stripped bare of clothes, revealing his chest and abdomen clear for both him and Cordelia to see. Judging from the trousers on the ground, the thief was likely au natural.

"Wha…? Whuzzat?" Gaius questioned, rubbing his eyes to see the two heads poking out from around the bed. "Bubbles? Red?" He followed up, leaning up further. "The hell're you two doing banging on my door?"

Both the people in question were notably red in embarrassment, with Robin opting to focus on the man's face and nothing below that. "We were just checking up on everyone. You OK in here?"

Gaius' head bobbed lazily. "Yeah, yeah. All good here. Helluva hangover though…"

"Yeah, Feroxi fire ale does that to you." Robin added dismissively. "You know where Anna might be, or…?"

The thief shook his head, before he felt something suddenly jut against his leg. The man visibly tensed, eyes moving away from his visitors and to the now moving mound of stuff underneath his bed covers.

A few moments later, another red head popped out from beneath the covers, eyes closed. As they sat up, thankfully their hands moved to reflexively keep the blanket pinned over their chest.

It took a bit for Anna to stir fully awake, her eyes fluttering as she looked forward at the two figures watching on. Then her head tilted to the right, noting Gaius' position next to her. Finally, her head tilted down, looking at her barely covered chest.

As she lifted her head again, Cordelia swiftly grabbed for the knob and pulled it towards them. The door slammed, and she moved to cover her ears.

Just as an ear eviscerating scream pierced the air, echoing through not just the barracks, but what seemed to be the entire Gods damned palace.

Robin visibly recoiled away from the door, clutching his head as his hangover was suddenly rekinded by the sharp sound violating his senses. Behind the wood, the sound of objects being thrown, stumbling, pleas from Gaius and even more yelling from Anna continued like some sort of unholy chorus. Though Anna was certainly the most audible part of the duet, repeated shouts of '**GET OUT, OUT, OUT!' **hovering above all else.

Suddenly Gaius fell through the door, a towel wrapped around his waist as a shoe went flying over his head and right into the wall behind him. Anna surged forwards at that chance, grabbing a hold of the handle and slamming the entryway shut once more.

The thief stood up, one hand holding the towel up while the other banged on the door helplessly. "Come on, Sunshine! Don't act like this, it was a fun night!"

"**If you come in here, I'm going to shove one of these daggers where the sun DOESN'T shine!" **The merchant roared in response.

"It's MY ROOM!" Gaius answered back, continuing to hit his fist against the wood. "At least give me some pants! I'm freezing my ass off out here!"

"**Not on your life, twinkle toes!"** Was the answer to his request. Defeated, the thief's head sagged forward and smacked against the wood one last time.

Robin and Cordelia once again traded glances. Between themselves, Gaius, then themselves again.

Sighing, Robin produced a key from his pocket, moving to stand next to Gaius and holding it for the man to take. "My room. Take a spare pair of trousers. Leave the key on the desk." He instructed.

Gaius numbly nodded, taking the key in hand. "Thanks, Bubbles." He mumbled morosely, before he shuffled down the hall like a man who'd just been sentenced to the noose.

Cordelia followed the broken lady's man with her eyes, frowning at his back before looking towards Robin once more. All the tactician could do was offer her a shrug.

At this point, nothing these people did could faze him anymore.

* * *

Hours later, both Robin and Cordelia sat outside the throne room next to one another. Robin was now wearing his usual garb, combat trousers and thick leather belt over his stomach along with a cream undershirt. Cordelia had mounted her gloves and armor, her hair having been brushed and straightened.

Chrom and Sumia were inside, dealing with some officiating rites with a member of the Church. Frederick had instructed them both to wait here until he collected them.

Silence hung over the two like a thick cowl. Both trapped within the confines of their minds as they were flooded with a myriad of thoughts. Second guesses, questions, fears. Plans, hopes, goals. Positive and negative emotions battled themselves, like air wrestling before a tornado was formed.

This would be the acceptance of their new lives. After this, they wouldn't be Shepherds anymore. Both would be raised to Officer ranks, given stations and commands. Duties to execute for the Halidom and their closest friends.

Part of Robin's mind still sat in disbelief. This time yesterday, he was standing next to his best friend as he became a married man. Now he was about to accept one of the highest stations in the nation. To think only a year prior he'd been found lying in a flower field.

Meanwhile Cordelia was mentally steeling herself, organizing her thoughts in orderly and proper rows for what would come next. After this, word would be spread through the Government. Sooner or later her family in Friga would catch wind of this. After that, the appointment hearing by the counsel. Then finally, she'd no longer be a simple trooper. She'd be a Captain, she'd be a Falcon Knight. One of the most elite soldiers Ylisse had.

Her hands clenched, hoping she wasn't going to make them regret this choice.

"Hey." Robin called, causing Cordelia to turn to look at the man. Despite his own emotions, he still managed to give her a smile. One that she matched as best she could, even if it was weaker.

"Remember what I told you." Robin said. "No one else on the continent, right?"

"The same goes for you, 'Grandmaster' Robin." Cordelia joked, earning a chuckle from her counterpart. She averted her eyes once again, looking down at the marble tile below them. Despite it all, she could still feel the same fear and panic as she had this morning.

"I want to believe that's true." She whispered, barely loud enough for Robin to make out. She needed to do this well. Not just for her sake, not just for her country and Monarch. But for all the people she left behind. And the pieces of herself she left as well.

Robin didn't respond at first, humming with the words. Then he simply laid his hand atop Cordelia's. His fingers interlaced with her own, locking them in unison. The knight looked up at the man, her clear red eyes once again meeting his murky purple.

Through her riding gloves and gauntlets, along with Robin's own leather mitt. Both of them could feel each other's warmth course through their bodies. It traveled freely, as if their hands were two cords connected together to let the energy flow.

"No matter what happens. No matter how this ends." Robin assured. "You aren't alone. Remember that."

Cordelia gulped audibly, taking the words to heart. She wasn't alone. She wasn't the only one left. She had friends, many friends for the first time in ages. She wouldn't have to march down this pass without help.

"I don't know what I did to deserve a friend like you." Cordelia whispered, squeezing the tactician's hand.

"You were you. That's all it took." He replied in kind. "That's why we all care about you so much."

The knight shook her head. "This… thing." She gestured between them both with her free hand. "It goes both ways. We both help one another through this. It's not fair for me to rely on you alone."

Another chuckle, but Robin nodded. "I'll make sure to ask for help if I ever think it's necessary."

"You're sure?" Cordelia asked.

"Not in the slightest." Robin admitted, prompting a snort to leave his partner. "But that's the fun part. Finding out."

"I'm not so sure I agree with your definition of fun." Cordelia chided gleefully.

Robin merely shrugged at that, pulling his hand back and disconnecting the two. "Well, _I'm_ going to be the one overseeing you now. So I'd say my definition's what matters."

"Oh really, now?" Cordelia huffed, nudging the man with her elbow. "Don't think I'll lay over and take that. Grandmaster or not, you're still just Robin the bumbling bookworm to me. Understand?"

"Whatever you say, 'Captain Perfect'." Robin prodded, smiling as Cordelia responded as he expected by shooting up the same tint as her hair.

After that, the door to the hall was pushed open. Frederick stood before them, the man not clad in his usual armor. Instead the man wore a collared dress shirt and his usual shoestring tie. Even then, he still seemed to tower over them both, sitting or standing.

"Milord and Lady will see you now." He rumbled at them, eyes examining both as they stood and made their way inside.

The throne room was freshly refurbished, simmering blue tapestries hanging down from each grand pillar with the white Brand of the Exalt proudly printed. Blue and white carpets were sprawled across the stone floor, old portraits of Royals prior watching on from the walls. Light from the sun shone down cleanly from the skylight above them.

Robin had been to this place twice prior. First, when he met Emmeyrn and her guard Phila. Back then she'd dressed the room up in a forest green, giving the room a sense of vibrant life in contrast to the stoic nobility of the new pallet. Even the sun seemed colored then, yellow rays coming down to embrace all who came to meet the Sage. Now the light was stark and sharp, illuminating all while feeling… resolute in itself.

The second was during the Plegian assassination attempt. Running from room to room, sword and tome in hand. Blasting and slashing his way through an untold amount of assailants. How they managed to sneak so many agents onto the grounds, he still didn't know. Another thing to do after this was done, rework palace security.

And now, the third time. It felt like whenever he stepped foot into this hall, his life seemed to turn in a new direction.

Chrom and Sumia both stood in the center of the room, far in front of the stage. Both were clad in their casual attire, though Sumia was notably lacking her armor. Instead she only seemed to wear a purple tank top along with her riding skirt. Not typical for a Queen, but these two were anything but typical.

The newlyweds were in furious discussion about… something, their arms waving as they spoke in harsh whispers. Neither of them seemed to notice the three figures walking towards them, nor did they hail them once they arrived. The expression on both of their faces was one of… frustration? Or worry. Perhaps both.

Regardless, Frederick brought a fist up to his mouth. He coughed once, his booming voice echoing about the room and pulling both out of their bickering.

Chrom smiled at their audience, scratching the back of his head. "Robin, Cordelia. My apologies, we were both just discussing another matter."

"We were _discussing_ how to deal with the pile of letters that were sitting here." Sumia corrected, much to the flush embarrassment of her husband.

"Letters?" Robin asked.

"Emm used to take letters from citizens." Chrom informed. "It was one of the ways she tried to keep in touch with people from outside the city. Even she couldn't be everywhere at once, so this was the next best thing."

Robin hummed, preparing to speak before Sumia interjected. "I've been trying to tell Chrom we should keep letting people send them here, but he thinks we should do away with the whole thing."

"You saw how many there were, do _you_ want to go through each and every note someone sends us?" Chrom asked, turning to face Sumia entirely again.

The woman walked up, narrowing her eyes and jabbing a finger right into the man's chest. "You listen to me, buster. If people want our help, then we need to listen. Just because it's boring doesn't mean not worth it."

"Could we at least have someone sort them first…?" The Exalt asked. "I want to help if we can, but half of the ones we already read weren't even problems we could fix. How am I supposed to get a random farmer his hog back?"

The two started to go at it all over again, losing themselves to the debate and blocking out the rest of the world. All the while Robin, Cordelia and Frederick stood there awkwardly. Exchanging glances and waiting for a chance to enter the discussion once more.

"How long have they been…?" Cordelia asked Frederick, looking over her shoulder.

"Two hours." Frederick answered, exhaling a long breath. "I had hoped you two would finally draw them away from this."

Cordelia simply nodded, lifting two fingers to her lips. At once, she released a sharp whistle.

Both Chrom and Sumia jumped up, turning to look at the stern faced soldier as she placed her hand back on her hip. "I apologize for the poor manners, your Grace. But we came here to discuss another matter with you both."

Chrom nodded, his expression growing a bit uncomfortable as he was referred to by Emmeryn's title. "No, no. We shouldn't be bickering like this anyway."

Robin rolled his eyes, but smiled. At least things seemed the same as always between the four of them.

"So…" Sumia began, edging her way up. "...Is this about the positions we asked you both about?" Frederick grumbled, moving to stand at the side between both couples. His vision continued to scan both the tactician and rider, as if he was checking to see for any residual hesitation. Like a hawk ready to swoop in on a rabbit.

Robin and Cordelia shared one last look, the latter nodding to the former.

"Yeah." Robin answered, before both spoke in unison to their leaders.

"We accept."

* * *

_**A/N: Took me longer than I'd like, but here it is. Chapter Two. Thanks to all the follows, favorites and reviews. This fic blew up quicker and larger than I expected it to. Hopefully there'll be less space in between this chapter and the next.**_

_**Anyway, two things to quickly advertise. One, I also recently updated my post Fateswakening fic if you're interested in that jazz. Two, me and a few other people decided to start up an Awakening Discord. So if you wanna come and chat about the game, be it levels, characters, fanart, fics, shipping or what have you, feel free to join us. The join code is (**_**_Pgemj2D) without the parenthesis._**

**_Until next time._**

**_o/_**


	3. C-3: Dukes, Duchesses, Devils and Drinks

-One Month Later-

Since the Second Plegian War, there had not been so many souls present within the Pegasus Knight compound.

After the Order's destruction in the desert theocracy's capitol, it had become almost hallowed ground. Few people dared to walk within its walls, par the masons and carpenters tasked with repairing damage from the siege. Even then, much of the work remained unfinished. There was little purpose to the reconstruction of an emptied barracks.

After the royal wedding, that status quo quickly changed.

Two parts of the compound had been fully rebuilt. The first, at the request of the Queen, had been the stables. Her word was that the home of the Pegasus Knights must be home of both Pegasus and Knights. So, the royal had completed it first, and had spared no expense in making the most ergonomic and comfortable stable house she could devise.

Next was the Knight-Captain's office and quarters, which had been put to order as soon as there were workers to spare. A rectangular, two story building that was nestled in the path between the stables and where the main barracks were being erected. It was a distinct red tint, heavitree stone having been taken from northern quarries all the way down. Rock native to both of the riders' native Duchy.

The grounds themselves were now abuzz with energy, the foundation for even more store houses, meeting halls, armories and training grounds being broken all across the designated area. So much so that the compound's territory had been expanded further, now sprawling over several acres.

Sumia had said she planned to make the Order 'stronger than ever'. If nothing, these initial efforts showed she meant it.

Though the Order had been finished in the second war, their waning had began during the first. Twenty years prior in the Crusade, their once strong numbers had been cut down to a fraction. Stories told of hundreds of Pegasus Knights soaring across the sand blasted sky, Ylissean banners whipping as they acted as the vanguard for the Exalt Dunstan.

Elite as they were, most of them never returned to the Halidom. When Dunstan was cut down at the Crusade's end, his daughter had focused the nation's efforts on civil reconstruction. Martial groups were left small, consolidated. Relegated to internal security over external conflict.

Now this Exalt intended to broker a middle ground. A defense strong enough to keep the peace and endure in war.

Cordelia hoped that all this preparation wasn't in vain. But right now, her mind was focused on more… menial tasks.

"No, no, no!" The new officer commanded. "Move the desk perpendicular with the door! Not next to it!"

The nervous workers skittered about in response, dragging the piece of furniture at the best speed they could muster. They weren't the only ones present, a team of ten butlers and maids having been taken away from their usual duties to help furnish the new residence. Many of them already wilting under the red haired paragon's harsh supervision.

She stood there, arms held behind her back, silently fuming at the sheer inefficiency of how they all went about the simplest tasks. If Cordelia had her way, she'd be doing this herself. But she'd also been asked to 'relax' and 'let others handle the busy work for once'.

It wasn't relaxing at all. In reality, she was more stressed now than usual. Namely because these helping hands were stumbling more than the Queen herself.

Maybe she should just intervene, no one would be the wiser…

The door swung open then, her head ever so slightly angling so she could spy who had arrived from the corner of her eye.

Much to Cordelia's surprise, it was none other than the Exalt himself.

The royal walked into the room with no fanfare. Yet once the previous occupants realized just who had joined their company, all motion quickly came to a halt. Every man and woman promptly dropping their current task and acknowledging their leader's presence. Most holding a deep bow from the waist, some going down on a knee and lowering her head.

All the while Cordelia stood there, her posture not changing in the slightest. In fact all she did was offer the man an amused smile.

"Good morning, your Grace." She greeted casually, turning her head forward once more as he moved to stand at her side. "I trust things are well today?"

"You would know, given your dawnguard patrol." Chrom answers, lifting a hand to release the servants back to their prior actions. A sigh of fatigue left the man, shoulders sagging.

"It was bad enough when I was merely the Prince." He confided in a low whisper, Cordelia listening on. "Before it was a bob of the head and a greeting, now everytime I walk near someone they bow and bend over."

"A respected man must be shown said respect." Was Cordelia's plain reply, eyes focusing sharply as the desk was finally positioned the way she had intended. With no scuff marks on the floorboards, thank Naga.

The blue haired man scoffed lightly, hand casually resting atop the handle of his holy weapon. Even as a statesman, he rarely seemed to part with the blade. "I've done little to earn their respect. The Capitol hasn't finished reconstruction, and the border remains a wasteland."

The Captain hummed in empathy, understanding her… friend. She could comfortably call Chrom a friend now. Cordelia understood his plight all too well. She shared it on a smaller scale, what with her new Command. All of Ylisse needed to rise from the ashes.

She pointed towards a large cabinet, then to the destination she wished for it to reach. The two workers grumbled, only to then sharply dart to the new assignment once they saw the dark expression on the soldier's face.

"All tasks, great or small, take time to complete." The Guardswoman explained, well aware that she was being hypocritical. Since her acceptance of this post a month prior, she'd dove deep into everything she needed to realize her and Sumia's vision. History, tactics, supply, economics. All subjects which she had been studying vigorously while planning. "Phila taught me that in life, we must treat it like our mounts. We cannot force our will, merely influence and guide."

"Phila was certainly wise. I understand why Emmeryn valued her counsel so dearly." Chrom commented aimlessly, frowning as he tried to absorb the information. In a way it was like practicing sword drills. To overexert yourself caused far more harm than good. Rushing progress was counter-productive, he was well aware of this.

That didn't mean he had to enjoy the wait.

In truth, he planned to use the reconstruction as an opportunity to press other reforms. The Halidom suffered from problems before the War came, it's arrival merely spread the cracks. The complete lack of a standing army was just one among many that needed correcting.

Ironic. Not long ago, he had been waiting and yearning for something to break the endless monotony of Ylisse's day to day. He relished the chance to raid a bandit camp or chase off brigands. Now he was doing everything he could just to return to those halcyon days. It would be funny if it wasn't all so stressful.

Cordelia, all the while, exhaled somberly at the mention of her deceased mentor. An act that did not go unnoticed by her companion.

"Are you alright?" He queried, concern causing his brow to crease.

Cordelia looked to him from the corner of her eye, her head shaking ever so slightly. "If only it was that simple." She remarked quietly, not letting anyone else hear the sorrowed inflections in her tone.

The man lifted his hand in response, clasping it atop her shoulder. Softly but firm around the armor she wore. Like one would try to hold a small bird. Cordelia gasped at the touch, but Chrom remained stable.

He didn't smile. He couldn't, the War had claimed those dear to him as well. Though he couldn't give her comfort, he at least provided a sense of solidarity.

"You can't force this either." He advised, voice hard from experience. "What happened was a travesty, no one thinks less of you for mourning."

She laughed bitterly, brushing a rebellious strand of her hair away from her visage. No one thought less of her for showing weakness, that was certainly a first. Normally they'd be picking her bones for the slightest misstep.

"I'll move on." She declared with absolution, before giving her liege a half-cocked smirk. "Do you always lay your hands on unmarried women? I'm not sure your wife would approve."

He smiled, laughing heartily at the soldier's humor and retracting his grasp. "Gods, no. The last thing I need is Sumia thinking I would do such a thing with her closest friend."

Cordelia rolled her eyes, but kept her expression. Both of their moods lifting from the dour subject-matter. "Please, we both know you'd never think of it. There's few couples I've seen as dedicated to each other."

"That's high praise" He says, resting his hand back on his hip. "I worry that she feel neglected. Between the Court, meetings, hearings and the like. Often times we only see one another after nightfall."

"Chrom." Cordelia begins, nudging him in the side with her elbow. "Believe me when I say this; Sumia is happier now than I've ever seen her."

"Truly?"

"Truly." She confirms, watching a tall potted plant be hefted through the doorway. Gods knows who even gifted her the thing, she loathed botany. "Did… did she ever tell you about our childhood in Friga?"

The Exalt shook his head, curious about this story about his Queen. The Captain pursed her lips, not expecting that response. Sumia rarely spoke to anyone about the troubles of her youth but… she didn't expect her to not even tell her husband.

Her mind battled over whether to tell him or not. He deserved to know, but… she of all people knew the value of privacy.

"Suffice to say..." She struggled to find the words. "...Just because we were born to nobility, does not mean she lead a joyous life."

This revelation only made Chrom more curious, but the look that Cordelia wore told him that she'd say no more on the matter.

"I… I knew she had a strained relationship with her father but…" He grasped for the best response, but found nothing. A new sense of shame crept up his spine, not having finding this out on his own.

"Ask her." Was Cordelia's final advice. "She adores you, milord. If there is anyone she would tell, it's you."

When Chrom didn't respond, she straightened herself up and rolled her shoulders. "And we all know you would do the same. As I said, what you both share is a marvelous thing."

He nodded, taking in his surroundings once more as the workers slowly began to shuffle out of the room. It seemed that the room had been fully furnished now, the walls lined with scroll-cases and other functionaries. Par the desk and a handful of chairs, nothing truly stood out. Nothing was present that didn't possess some sort of practical use.

"I am lucky to be blessed with her companionship." He mused sincerely. "And to be surrounded by friends such as yourself."

"I'm flattered, your Grace." Cordelia told the man, giving the man a simple bow of her head. "Be sure to tell the Grandmaster that I've taken his position as your most trusted confidant."

Another laugh shook out from the royal, his head shaking the idea away. But now he knew why Sumia had chosen Cordelia as her own second. She seemed to hold the same position for her as Robin did for him. It was one of many ways the two mirrored each other, in temperament and duty.

"Speaking of…" Chrom started, once again changing the subject. "I did come to remind you, the Counsel meeting is this afternoon. You have your final proposal ready?"

"I do." Cordelia confirmed, hands nervously clenching hidden behind her back. She doubted her plans for the Knights would be popular, but they were necessary.

He hummed gratefully. "Good. Frederick and Robin are already setting up in the meeting hall. We'll see you then."

Cordelia gave him another bow in response, deeper this time. He returned it with his own bob of the head, before turning to depart the office. The Captain was left alone in her vacated office, mind bouncing between the hellish meeting to come and the man who'd just left her presence.

If this had been a year ago, she wouldn't have been able to even utter a word in his presence without blathering like a fool. Now here she was, consoling him over matters of the heart.

After years of pining, she'd finally lost that battle. The so called 'love of her life' had chosen another.

Oddly enough, it felt more like victory than defeat.

* * *

In the upper echelon of the palace, two figures were indeed making preparations in the hall. Though both were in close proximity to one another, they seemed absorbed in their own worlds. Each of them making the space ready for the coming meeting in their own ways.

One man, a tall brown haired figure in silver and blue armor, walked back and forth with a duster in hand. He wasn't dressed like a butler, nor did he hold the station. Yet he was cleaning like one all the same, a dustpan and broom sitting idle in the corner after having been used.

The other, shorter and clad in a new bronze colored cuirass, greaves and sabatons was mulling over a set of scrolls and folders. Behind him, a stand with diagrams drawn about on each large page. Different shapes and symbols which meant little to the uneducated eye.

The meeting hall was nestled away from the public eye rested a small room. A long ashwood table stretched from end to end, sides lined with chairs that seemed to be more valuable than a farmer's entire crop. At the end sat two ornate thrones, one for each of the rulers. Old tapestries hung on the walls, the seal of Royal House of Lowell emblazoned proudly.

This was one of the most important rooms in the country. Where choices were made that would affect every man, woman and child within her borders.

To call Robin nervous would be a complete understatement.

He'd long since memorized every word that was one each of these documents. Hell, he'd written most of them himself. Though, Maribelle had helped him transcribe his thoughts into more official looking documents. Yet he couldn't sake a feeling of dread that hung over his mind. That the next few hours of his life would make him regret ever taking this position.

The Dukes and Electors would be clawing at his hide as they always did. The Court was very much like a battlefield, different factions constantly vying for supremacy over one another. Except here, he couldn't rely on strength of arms or quick movement. No, instead he had to use his not-so silver tongue and questionable wit.

He'd yet to make a fool of himself at least. The balls, parties and galas he'd been roped into attending had been easy to mitigate. Most of the time he'd merely acted as a wallflower, remaining at the side of Chrom and Sumia. Being in their entourage made it easy to avoid different nobles' attempts to curry his favor.

It also made it easier to avoid the multitude of women who were suddenly interested in the foreigner. Much to his visible dismay.

Rank has its benefits, though in this case it felt more like a curse. He had no interest in a one night romp.

Between all the glitz, glamour and dizziness, he'd also been utterly buried in work and tasks from the moment he'd been named and knighted. Requisition, organization, planning, budgeting, bartering, ordering, threatening. All this and more he did daily just to get what needed to be done, done.

Sometimes he found himself longing for the campaign again. At least in a war you knew who to trust.

So Robin sat there, stewing in his anxiety and ever growing irritation.

Frederick, all the while, took a step back and admired his handiwork. The room looked spic and span, one could probably eat off of the floor now that the retainer had finished.

A satisfied smile came over him as he turned to place the feather duster back amongst the rest of his cleaning instruments, when he caught the tactician's frustration. The emotion rose off the cloaked man's shoulders, filling his surroundings like a putrid smog.

"Ravaging those forms won't change what's written on them." Frederick verbally tossed his way, his own metal clad boot giving Robin's chair a not so gentle nudge. The Grandmaster's entire body jutted from the sudden momentum, a few of the papers rolling off the tabletop and onto the ground.

Groaning, Robin doubled over to collect his fallen plans. Frederick gathered together his own items, bounding them with cloth and setting them aside where they would be unseen by the coming visitors.

He then turned to walk back towards his former comrade, just as Robin was reorganizing the mess. "This is only the first of many council meetings. Losing your nerve now will set a poor impression upon the nobility, keep that in mind."

"It's the only thing on my mind." Robin shot back through grit teeth, setting each document in the order of which he planned to present them. At first he'd planned to carry it out like a military briefing, but he realized that would fall on deaf ears for many in this crowd. Now he planned to move step by step, section by section. Like a lesson given to school children.

"Relax." Frederick advised, arms at a parade rest as he gave the room one last inspection to ensure that everything was perfect. His eyes focusing on the portraits, artifacts and heirlooms that mounted their surroundings. "Panic is the bane of success."

"And lectures are the essence of tedium." Robin grumbled back at the man, forcing himself to lean back into his chair. "How do you know anything about these meetings? You're not a ruling vassal."

"Perhaps, but-" Frederick began to explain, lifting a steel mitt to adjust the wayward angle of a painting. "-I have watched over more of these gatherings than some of the Electors." He informed, before continuing on his march. "Remember that I was Lady Emmeryn's protector before Milord's."

"Great." Robin droned, his head sagging back. Much as he wanted to spend the rest of the time waiting in silence, he knew better than to pass up a chance to gain some kind of helpful knowledge. "What should I expect?"

Frederick halted again, this time running his hand down along a curtain to wring out some wrinkles. "Remember that regardless of their titles, Grandmaster, these men and women are simply that. They have their needs, wishes and vices. And each of them is the hero of their own story."

"So I'm going to be in a battle of egos." Robin lamented. "Remind me again why we don't just have Chrom make all the choices? It'd save me the headache."

Frederick shook his head. "No man can rule alone. Though I have the utmost faith in the Exalt, he is still unpracticed in matters of the state."

"Which is something I'll bet you these 'nobles' are going to try and use." Robin pointed out quickly, not relishing the idea of his friend being manipulated by the denizens of various ivory towers.

Chrom, Gods bless his soul, was many things. Dense was sadly one of them.

The Knight turned about, his gaze now focusing squarely on the door. "He needs guidance from more than just ourselves." Frederick observed. "Experience is the most valuable resource… something you lack in this field."

That earned Robin's ire, the Plegian sitting back up and giving the knight a frigid glare. "I'm doing what I can."

"Be that as it may, I speak truth." Frederick answered, not even bothering to even tilt his head in Robin's direction. "Control your emotions, tactician. Lest they control you."

The Plegian man sighed in defeat turning his own gaze towards the entrance. He drew out a small pocket watch, the silver device having been gifted to him by Frederick's spouse the day of his appointment.

His stomach growled in tempo with the watch's hands. In spite of the warnings, he could still feel his mood plummet further and further.

This had all better have been worth missing breakfast for.

* * *

Not long after, the event began. The former Shepherds found themselves surrounded by the most powerful people in their world. Powerful and… colorful.

Seven men and women of different temperaments and ideals. Three Dukes, one Duchess, three Electors and an Archbishop. Each of them reigning over one of the substates that made up Ylisse. Their lands were all of different climates, trades, resources and histories. Yet the one thing they shared in common was a loyalty to the Altean descendants and House Lowell. The Exalt and his family.

Well, in theory at least.

In action each of these territories were extremely autonomous. These men and women controlled their own economies, soldiers, cities, farms and populace. The Exalted line had long since afforded them vast freedoms to act as they saw fit, only ever rallying them together in times of war and crisis.

Chrom realized changing that would be dangerous. But after Plegia, it'd become deathly necessary.

As he walked into the room, Sumia following behind at a quickened pace. Both he and his wife had decided to wear their usual dresswear, with the Queen clad in her old knightly armor.

At once, all people in the room rose from their chairs, dismissing whatever previous discussions and activities they'd been involved in. Four of them on each side, heads turned to look in their direction. Nothing was said, no other motions were made. Merely waiting for permission to seat themselves once more.

Respect for their station, but not specifically for them. He hadn't earned that yet.

Frederick and Cordelia both stood behind where their Lord and Lady moved to sit, the two protectors sharing a wary glance at one another as the nation's leaders took their places. Soon after, all others returned to their positions, while the soldiers remained standing at their posts. All the while Chrom took a mental role call of all those present.

First on the right were the Duchies' leaders.

Closest to him was Lord Conway, the Duke of Themis. A tall, lanky man who held a perfectly trained posture. A blonde like his daughter, shortly cropped in contrast to her long drills. A fur cloak hung off his shoulders and a steel grey breastplate shined. Unassuming as he was, the Duke had a reputation of being a hard lawman. Many legal scholars and enforcers hailed from his home.

His lands also held the Halidom's largest ore mines; iron, gold and copper rich in the tall border peaks.

Next was the Duchess of Friga, Kaltrina. Her pearl-like skin was contrasted by the sharp fire of orange hair that rested on her shoulders. She wore a simple white dress and cape, along with an unassuming golden tiara. Her appearance nearly mirrored that of an ancient Valmese Queen, though her mannerisms were far more rebellious. Of all those present, she was probably the deadliest with a bow or dagger.

Her lands had claim over the quarries and trapping centers. Stone and fur were gathered in the north, then distributed south.

Then came Duke Arvin of Lefandi. A short, stodgy man who better resembled a hound's chewtoy than a person. Balding, bearded, greying and borderlining on senile. Easily the oldest man in the castle, let alone at the table. Though he still refused to step down, claiming he could still rule his homeland better than his 'airheaded son' could. Everyone loathed him, but his people still followed the crotchety man due to his undeniable administrative skill.

Lumber and seafood were his main exports. Along with being an honest pain in the arse.

Finally was the newest, and debatably most powerful subject. Duke Roderick of Archanea, the largest Duchy directly south of Ylisstol. He'd recently taken the position after his father's demise on the battlefield. The man was actually an old friend of Chrom's, both of them having been instructed by the same tutors growing up. Even if their first reunion in years had been at Chrom's wedding, he trusted the man more than any other Duke.

Archenea was the breadbasket of the nation. The amount of foodstuffs produced in the vast fields it possessed was so disproportionate, any crop failure spelled a certain famine for everyone.

Those were the people who, frankly, mattered.

To his left were the 'Electors'. Rulers of the old island states off the coast that had remained under Altean rule through the years. The Principalities of Talys, Pyrathi and Warren. Their contributions as to Ylisse as a whole were meager, but territories of their size were not expected to provide much outside of self-sustainment. Still, tradition and honor granted their leaders a word in national affairs.

Even if that word weight little compared to those across from them.

Robin present as well, sitting across from Roderick. Chrom prayed that the others couldn't see through the tactician's thinly veiled impatience as well.

"I trust you were all able to travel here safely?" Chrom began at last, both of his hands resting at the table's edge.

"As safe as one can be these days. No risen to be found on the Northroad anymore, thankfully." Kaltrina head turned to give Arvin an unimpressed glaze. "Though I am surprised Lord Lefandi arrived without a broken hip."

"Mind your tongue." The man snarled in response. "I made it here fine, no thanks to any of you. Not a single member of the Knighthood patrolling the roadways! My men at arms were the only protection I had! I could have been killed!"

"And what a tragedy that would have been." Conway hummed sarcastically under his breath. "Travel was safe enough. The Duchy is still being rebuilt, but Ylisstol has been kind enough to lend aid so our roadways are in proper order."

"Ours as well." Roderick followed up. "Though the damage we incurred was light compared to that of your lands, Lord Themis."

"My people and I have suffered worse and survived." The man corrected, waving a pair of fingers in dismissal towards the young blood. "Compared to the ravages of the Crusade, I shall take the sacking of my capital over the slaughter of my subjects."

"Honorable words." Sumia offered with a kind smile.

"Feel-good bleathery." Arvin spat, adjusting his seating with a notable thump along the wood. "Can we get on with this? I can already feel myself boiling this far south."

"You'd complain even more if we were in my castle, you bag of skin." Kaltrina retorted. Just as her antagonist moved to reply, Chrom delivered both a lethal glare. The woman promptly returned to her previous disposition, while the old man muttered something about disrespectful brats.

"I called you hear today so we could discuss topics of martial import." Chrom explained calmly, wishing that these meetings didn't escalate like this every time. He gestured to Cordelia and Frederick as they remained as his vigil. "Captains Volkner and Cadwaller will be presenting their plans for the replenishment and reformation of their Orders."

The Exalt then also pointed forward. "Grandmaster Medon will also be laying out his Army reforms." Chrom informed, Robin standing to his feet and bowing to the group before sitting down quickly.

"So we'll finally have some law and order again. Finally." Arvin grumbled. "I warned your sister that disarming the nation would have consequences. But no, she didn't listen to me. Too terrified of acting like Dunstan."

"Weren't you one of Dunstan's Generals?" One of the Electors asked, a light brown haired woman wearing a mage's garb. "In my Uncle's time you were one of his most fervent supporters."

"That was a long time ago girl." He answered defensively.

"All of our predecessors supported Dunstan's Crusade." Conway reminded tiredly, this point of contention regularly being used as a black mark to discredit one another. "Even my Mother did, and it got her eaten by a wyvern."

"All of our families have much to be ashamed of from the conflict." Chrom asserted, taking control back of the discussion. "It's why we learn from their failings, so we need not repeat the mistakes of the past." He paused for a moment, making a mental apology to his fallen sister.

"But after the brazen destruction of our western lands, it's clear that we need our strength reinforced. Not just with the Knightly Orders, but a standing Army as well."

Words of agreement echoed through the room, some less enthused than others. As poorly as the second war had started, they still won. A return to the old ways could mean a return to old habits, something that would not end well for anyone involved. Chrom's father, even before the war, used the military to rule with an iron fist.

The blue haired noble looked over his shoulder, nodding to Frederick. His former lieutenant came forward, hands utterly empty as he continued to keep them clasped behind his back.

"I've been honored to be selected by milord to become Captain of the Ylissean Knighthood." Frederick began, the man towering over the nobles as his voice boomed. "Over the past few weeks, I've worked closely with the Grandmaster to create a unified plan that will ensure our efficacy and ability remains unparalleled."

He waited for anyone to dare speak a word out of line, but not even a breath seemed to leave his captive audience. "In a fortnight's time I plan to reopen the Knighthood examination, and intend to take a class of a hundred new squires. There will also be another opportunity in six months time."

"Two-hundred trainees taken on in a single year." Conway commented briskly, fingers tapping along the table-top. "That's quite the large class, Captain. Are you sure it's sustainable?"

Frederick gave the man an uncharacteristic smile, one which Cordelia read for a ploy to ease the man. "The Knighthood has a standing roster of two-hundred fully fledged members." He explained simply. "Another hundred are due to have their accolades by year's end. We have little to fear for instructors."

"I was under the impression that the Knighthood had undertaken extreme casualties." Kaltrina interjected, resting back with her arms folded cleanly against her bust. "Many of your veterans are dead or crippled, Sir Frederick. This feels like novices teaching novices."

Robin opened his mouth to interject, but was silenced as tall ironclad man lifted a hand to stop him. "Duchess, what makes you think those who died were veterans?" He asked the woman.

"Excuse me?" She answered, bewildered. "What do you mean how I 'think' they were veterans?"

"I am merely asking you explain to me what you believe a veteran to be, my lady." Frederick pressed, his previous expression falling in line back to his stone cold normality.

The Duchess frowned, but humored the man. "An experienced warrior, clearly. One who's gone through many contests of arms."

Frederick made an odd huff, nodding. "Agreed. That is what a veteran soldier is supposed to be. However, that is not what our Order was staffed by."

"I beg your pardon?!" Kaltrina questioned in indignant disbelief. "How could they not be veterans, most of the fallen had been Knights for almost a decade!"

"Yes. A decade where they never had to engage an enemy more skilled than a common bandit." Frederick asserted plainly. "Many of them did not even do that, having spent their time merely puttering about in the Halidom's strongholds. How often did the Knights stationed in Friga sally out to deal with unwanted elements, Duchess?"

Kaltrina didn't answer, instead thinking over the man's query. The huntress frowned as she realized the validity to the man's words. Her Knights very rarely patrolled unless explicitly ordered… even then they often remained close to the city and castle. Outer towns were left to the protection of local militias, or the Shepherds.

"Damnation." She growled, before looking over to the others at the table. "Was this the same for every other territory?"

"With the exception of Themis, yes." Frederick informed, shooting a glance to Conway. "Which, unsurprisingly enough, is where most of the Knighthood's survivors hail from."

"Good to see those drills and raids paid off." Conway commented idly, smirking in victory towards his northern counterpart.

"They did indeed." Frederick confirmed. "Which is why I'm also no longer keeping the Knights garrisoned within cities. After my experience in the Shepherds, I've decided that a separate garrison will be erected for the knights somewhere in each territory."

The other Dukes and Electors had no response to that, though the sense of disagreement was palpable in the air. No knights meant that they would have to spend their own funds in keeping their cities garrisoned.

Even then, evidence had shown it was ineffective regardless.

Frederick coughed into a fist, alerting the group to him once more.

"The Knighthood was one thousand men and women strong. It's a fraction of its former strength now because we foolishly thought peace would be eternal." The man's voice dipped, tone turning solemn. His mind flashing as he thought back to the picture of many of his former students broken and bleeding across the Plegian desert.

"Unfortunately, reality has a way of disappointing us." He finished, shaking the dark thoughts from his mind.

Sensing Frederick's stumbling, Robin removed a set of scrolls from his sack. The tactician placed them in the center of the table, allowing each of the rulers to take one for themselves. "In there are the reforms that we've implemented into the Knighthood to ensure we do not repeat the massacre at the Plegian Capitol. Captain Cadwaller approves, and will execute them accordingly."

Each parchment was taken, with all the attendees reading over the words printed. Robin turned to look at Frederick, lifting a brow to silently see the man's condition.

The Knight inhaled deeply, eyes closing as he recuperated himself. He merely nodded back to the Grandmaster, and that was that.

"...You're imposing recertifications." Roderick commented, his mouth a thin line. "What will happen to those who are unable to maintain their position?"

"They will be retired." Frederick said. "With full honors and titles, along with a pension. If they wish to rejoin the Order, they are free to retake the examination and be restored to their previous rank."

"And this change to the examination itself." Arvin points out, finger jabbing the ink on the page. "You're allowing people to retake it now? Why on Naga's earth would you want to let failures into an elite group?"

"Because failure is the best teacher one can have, my Lord." Frederick asserted. "I care not for one's ability in the past, only in the present."

"And this… officer's training." Conway mused with sheer curiosity. "Explain this to me."

"That would be best left to the Grandmaster." Frederick said, to which Robin stood from his seat to address the group.

"With the task of raising a new Army, there comes the issue of new leadership." Robin began. "Smaller groups can be led by local gentry, however high command will require more educated heads. Bluntly speaking, Ylisse has no Generals. We lack even the framework to train them. Plegia, on the other hand, regularly trains new war fighters. In Ferox, fighting is their life. Peaceful as we are, we can't be undefended. So to counter this, the highest scoring Knights will be selected to be trained for upper command."

"Traditionally we are to be Generals in times of war, Grandmaster." An Elector dressed in a deep blue jerkin and fur doublet. He wore an unimpressed, almost asleep look. As if this entire discussion was below him.

Robin, already upset and not wanting to deal with any of these 'nobles' and their pride, merely frowned back.

"Really?" He shot back, moving to walk towards the man. The Plegan took a position behind the man who'd been foolish enough to speak up, leering over him with malicious intent. Each of the purple eyes on his overcoat seemed to focus towards his current target, whom was now shrinking into his seat.

"You're the ruler of Warren, right?" Robin asked, permitting the man to nod. "Have you ever planned a logistical route through occupied territory?"

The man shook his head tentatively, to which Robin leaned further down. "Have you ever ordered an advance through a cavern, with plans to escape in case of ambush?"

Another shake of the head. "Have you ever been an assault on a stronghold, watching men and women getting shot dead before even making it halfway to the walls?"

The man tried to speak, but now the Plegian leaned down and close, jaw clenched with venom dripping from every word. "Have you ever even fought a battle?"

At this point, the nobleman released a meagre squeak and practically melted into the floor. Robin stood back up, adjusting the sleeves of his coat.

He then walked back and promptly took his seat once more.

"If an Army is to function, it needs more than eight Commanders." He declared with absolution, challenging anyone else to try and combat him. Him of all people, the man who likely had more warfighting experience than all of these Dukes and Duchesses combined. The tactician who'd helped kill Gangrel. The one who'd helped end the War.

No one dared to say a word. When the time to vote came, Frederick's plan passed unanimously.

Chrom smiled, despite himself. That was one matter won, though he shot Robin a clear gaze of disapproval.

"Milord." Frederick whispered, catching the silent exchange between the two men. "It's almost noontime. Perhaps we should take a short recess for lunch?"

Chrom hummed, taking the opportunity and moving to stand. "Yes, that would be best. Allow our heads to cool. It is certainly sweltering this summer, more so than usual."

"This is why I offered to host this meeting. Friga is lovely this time of year." Kaltrina reminded, tutting away before she stood herself. "No matter, I'm famished. My stewards forgot to pack enough food as usual, I almost had to go track some down myself."

There wasn't any objection to the idea, and so people began to shuffle out of the room with an agreement to reassemble in half an hour's time. One by one each noble drifted out, moving to speak with their own staff.

Frederick, in the meantime, marched over to Robin and swiftly grabbed the man by the cloak.

"You. My office. Now." He demanded, dragging the Plegian off as he didn't even try to defend himself. Sumia, Cordelia and Chrom each scurried off after them. Only one part done and they'd already entered a standoff with someone.

Chrom, knowing his friend, was just glad he hadn't smacked him.

* * *

Though his ears felt like they were bleeding, Robin managed to return to the counsel room with the others.

The past twenty minutes had been a ceaseless berating from all three parties. Chrom and Frederick screamed him deaf, going on and on about how he could have easily thrown the entire vote into disarray over one smug man. He'd been successfully goaded by a lesser noble, of all people. It was utterly shameful.

Sumia was utterly bewildered, rarely having seen Robin ever become so hostile towards someone. Robin had a temper, certainly. But he was also generally good natured, and rarely seemed to lash out at anyone. Part of her expected the Plegian to begin strangling the Elector on the spot.

Most of the lecture went in one ear and out the other. He knew he'd crossed a line, and promised to stay mostly silent for the rest of the session.

But the whole scene just set something off. Every time they said something to slight the remaining Knights, the only thing he could picture were his friends. Stahl, Sully, Kellam. All of them were going to be instructors for this new group.

They'd all fought through hell to survive the war. Each of them had nearly died timeless amounts just so Ylisse could hang on by a thread. Sully had the horse she'd grown up with killed right underneath her, Stahl was nearly eaten alive by Wyvern Riders. Kellam, Gods he'd been almost boiled alive in his armor by mages. Lissa and Libra had barely managed to save each one.

They were heroes. They were heroes and these 'nobles' were treating them like a carpet. What else was he supposed to do? What kind of person wouldn't defend their friend in that situation?

Certainly not the kind of man he wanted to be.

Still, he could have gone about it better. Making a fool of himself wasn't going to help anyone.

"What's the next topic then?" Conway asked, taking a sandwich tray from a passing maid. A few workers had entered the room, providing the guests with requested refreshment from the castle's kitchen. Smells of fish, poultry, juice and tea intermingled with one another as fresh meals were presented.

The Grandmaster and Frederick were off in the corner, the Captain deciding to keep the Plegian on a tighter leash. Cordelia, knowing what came next, stood nervously behind the Exalt and Queen.

"The Pegasus Knights. To which my wife and Captain Volkner will explain." Chrom told the man, the clunk of iron boots behind him signaling Cordelia's approach.

Sumia, all the while, jumped at the mention of her name. Black coffee shot up, spilling onto her saucer and the floor below her.

"Sorry, sorry!" The woman said, more directed to the maid who swiftly move to dry the splash than anyone else. A few eyes rolled from the crowd, Arvin's especially. Roderick chuckled at the show, while Conway and Kaltrina watched expectantly.

"Uh, right. Right!" Sumia jumbled out, going up and setting her saucer back down with an unceremonious clunk. "Cord- I mean, Dame Cordelia and I've been really excited to show you all our vision for the Pegasus Knights. We put a lot of time, and effort, and research, and planning to make sure everything's great!" She told the group with unfettered enthusiasm, hoping that her complete and utter panic wouldn't rear it's ugly head.

Cordelia laughed nervously, moving to stand at Sumia's side. "What her Highness means to say is, we've laid out a well thought plan to repopulate and reform the Order of Pegasus Knights from its current status. As you all know, reconstruction of our compound has already begun."

"Indeed." Kaltrina commented, eyes focused squarely on Cordelia. "You gave me the privilege of a guided tour, Captain. I am impressed with what you have so far."

"Better be impressive with the price tag." Arvin grumbled, displeased. "That place isn't even half-done and it's already cost as much as a whole city block to make. What did you people put there, an Outrealm gate?!"

"Calm down, Arvin. Before you give yourself a heart attack." Conway said in exasperation. "Your Highness, Captain. I apologize on his behalf, continue."

Sumia smiled nervously, trying to gather her nerves back to a pliable state. "W-well, with reconstruction going ahead of schedule, we were thinking of opening up recruitment early. The old Shepherd barracks are empty now, so…"

"They'll work fine as a temporary dormitory." Cordelia finished. "The training grounds and castle stables should be enough space for the inaugural class. Roughly a hundred women."

The heads at the table bobbed up and down in agreement, seeing no issue with the arrangement. The showing made Sumia visibly untense, shoulders coming down as the straps of her armor chaffed.

"We're also expanding the roster." Cordelia pressed, gesturing to a map that had been hung up behind the royals. The southern half of the continent was clearly shown, with lines and marks having been scrawled on from top to bottom.

The red headed woman took a few steps back, pointing to the center of Ylisse where the capitol resided. "Our headquarters will remain here, along with a Company under my personal command to act as guards for the royal family."

Her silver gloved finger shifted, moving left and landing on the city of Themis. "Each of the Duchies, once we've trained enough new knights, will have another company garrisoned. The same goes for the island vassals."

"So we'll have to build new stables in each of our cities now." Kaltrina commented dryly, eyes piercing at the speaking soldier's visage. "Is this necessary? The Knighthood will still be present to patrol even if they aren't present."

"With respect, Duchess." Cordelia began, clearly unnerved from being lined up in this woman's crosshairs. "While Frederick's Order will patrol the lands of the Halidom, my Knights will be used as more of a…" She paused, trying to think of the words. "A reactionary force."

Kaltrina rose a brow, her gaze softening. "Explain."

Breathing an internal sigh of relief, she continued. "I plan to train these new riders to arrive and resolve developing or known situations. Say, for instance-" She moves her finger to Friga, landing on an open to the Friga's southern border. "A squadron of cavalrymen discovers a bandit camp. They would note the position, then return to their garrison. There, a Pegasus Knight messenger would be given the information before she flies back to the city." Cordelia again pointed to Friga's capitol. "Here, the company's Captain would organize a group to strike the camp and eliminate the threat. All of which could be done in about…"

She looked over to Robin, letting him give the estimate.

"A day, at most." He spoke. "Assuming Frederick's troops don't decide to deal with it themselves, in which case it would take even less time."

Kaltrina hummed, sizing the tactician up with trepidation. "This was your plan, Plegian?"

Robin shook his head quickly. "Not at all, Captain Volker and her Highness devised this. I merely calculated distances."

The Duchess nodded, settling back in her chair. "Good to see Frigan women are the brains of your outfit." She spoke, earning a blush from both of the women in question.

Robin, rolling his eyes, leaned closer to Frederick.

"Do they always try to one up each other like this?" He asked, feeling annoyance bubble up in his breast once more.

Frederick snorted, the corner of his mouth turning up. "This is nothing, wait until a proper court meeting occurs. Then they all traipse about like peacocks. One of them will likely try to secure a lasting alliance with you."

The Plegian, reading what 'lasting alliance' meant, immediately blanched in fear. "I request to be excused." Robin immediately pled.

"Denied. We all have to do our duty, even if it is unpleasant." Frederick corrected, his smirk growing. "Besides, you're single. Perhaps you shall find a woman to spend your life with."

Robin groaned, running a hand through his hair. "I have enough problems in my life, I'm not adding courtship to the list."

Frederick merely chuckled in response, ever grateful for the wedding band present on his own finger.

"Dame Cordelia." Roderick spoke, lifting a hand to gather the woman's attention. "Exactly how many women do you plan to recruit to the Order?"

Cordelia hesitated, looking to Sumia for the go ahead to speak the point. Sumia nodded, letting her friend reveal their intent.

"In two years time, we hope to have one thousand women garrisoned through the Halidom. The Grandmaster hopes to incorporate us as a regiment." The Captain informed, expecting the sheer disbelief that was eliminated by the others.

Arvin leaned forward, his frown growing at the silly idea. "And dare I ask how you plan on training that many women to become elite soldiers? Quantity and quality do not mix."

"We go company by company." Cordelia retorted. "Fill out the ranks of each garrison, one city at a time. With each class being given six months drills, and time to tame their own steed, we should be at strength in two years time."

"With respect, Captain." Conway spoke. "I am unsure if we have enough eligible women in the nobility to reach that quota. Knight training must start at seventeen, no?"

Cordelia nodded, stepping in front of the map. "I'm… aware." She acknowledge, mentally bracing herself for the backlash of what she was about to say. Decades of tradition, about to be thrown underfoot.

"Which is why I plan to allow commoners to enlist in the Order." Cordelia declared, voice strong and unrelenting.

And with that, all hell broke loose.

* * *

Nighttime. Deep in the city's lower quarter.

Peter Natal stood at his bar counter, casually drying an iron mug with an old hole-filled rag. His tavern remained mostly empty tonight, as it usually during the weekdays. His wife and little boys had already retired for the evening, leaving him and his visiting daughter to keep watch over the establishment.

The past month had been blessedly silent for him. No unwanted visitors, no heart-stopping surprises. A few drunken brawls here or there, but nothing unmanageable. A bit of yelling, some threats, drawing out his old battered blade. The same song and dance he'd gotten used to ever since he'd opened this place. Even if it started off as a front for his 'extra-legal' activities, at his age he'd begun to prefer this business over his others.

Part of that was because of what happened the day of the royal wedding. After everything, he'd been so sure he'd finally meet the Divines that bright afternoon. Life as a smuggler was a life on borrowed time, especially if you gained enemies. But by Naga's grace, an old friends and some strangers had spared him an early tombstone. He wasn't sure why Anna'd been so willing to sacrifice gold for his safety, or why someone as self-serving as Gaius had changed his stripes. But in the end they'd saved him, and expected nothing for it..

When the dust settled and Rourke had been imprisoned, he'd gone up the castle and personally thanked the eight Shepherds. Promised each of them as much ale as they could drink as a show of gratitude.

Though, he hadn't expected one of them to cash in this soon.

Cordelia sat slumped over the bar and forehead planted on the wooden counter. An empty tankard stood vigilantly over her partially inibered form, grey glistening in the orange candle light. She wore no armor nor accessories to denote her station, merely keeping a red and white shawl draped over her usual outfit.

The Captain lifted her hand, waving it in the vague direction of the tavern's owner. "Refill." She ordered, voice still crisp and unslurred.

Petey grunted, grabbing the bottle in question by the neck and pouring it to fill the tankard once again. Purple spirit poured freely from the container, filling her mug up until there was nothing left. He then placed the empty bottle back down, returning to his previous activities.

"Won't be safe to head back to the castle soon." He reminded, eyes looking out to the lantern illuminated street. "This part of town gets real frisky at night."

"I can-" Cordelia groaned with effort, lifting her head and moving her bangs back out of her face. Her gloved hand took the tankard in a steel grip, sipping at the beverage before setting it back down. "-Handle a few brigades."

"Sure, but I dunno if you can handle ten of'em half-drunk." Peter commented leaving the dried cup on the drying rack next to it's similarly soaked siblings. The old man sighed, shuffling back over to the disparaged knight and resting on his elbow.

"Y'can stay here until sunrise." He offered, jabbing a finger upstairs. "Got a guest room with a bed and blankets. Not nice like you're used to, but it's something."

"I'm used to tents and lumpy bedrolls." Cordelia corrected, having spent many a night of her service sleeping under the stars. Even before the war she rarely had a proper mattress to sink into.

"Right, forgot. You're some kind of soldier-girl." He remembered, rolling his eyes at the young woman's unwavering pride. Though he kept an eye on her, focusing mostly on the white wing clips that kept shining in her sea of red. "...Thought all of your troop died in the war, though."

Cordelia's face twisted in contempt, but Peter remained stone-faced. Tactless as it was, he was merely speaking the truth. He'd offered her a bed and was feeding her without cost, it was clear the barkeeper meant her no ill will.

Not like the nobles had shown her after her announcement.

"Not all of us did." She replied in a frigid tone, moving to drink once more before she said something less kind.

He nodded in understanding. "Good. Enough people died in that fight anyway." The man recalled, watching two figures outside of the window.

Cordelia nodded, the alcohol making her numb to any self-loathing. Though that was sure to change. "Last month, you said that you had lost your siblings in the war."

Peter just shrugged, expression unfazed. "They were militiamen. Nobodies."

"They were no less valuable than my sisters in arms." Cordelia affirmed.

Peter just snorted with that. "Cute sentiment, kiddo. But your people were the best fliers in the world, my brother and sister just stabbed things with a pike." She shook her head in disagreement, but the barkeep was having none of it. "Listen, they knew the risks. Everyone did, the Exalt didn't press people into service. I know they wouldn't want be crying over it, so I don't."

"But you miss them. You must."

"Of course I do." He said. "And I'm glad my kids all got an aunt and uncle to be proud of. Wish they were still here, but I'm more proud then sad now."

Those words rang in Cordelia's mind. More proud then sad.

If only she'd reached that sentiment.

Their recollections were interrupted by the telltale sound of an opening door, the two figures from outside having finally made their way in. Both of them were clad in older brown cloaks, one clearly taller than the other. Each had hoods pulled over their heads making their appearances indiscernible.

Though that didn't last, one of them quickly removing the hood and revealing themselves to be the one and old Plegian Grandmaster. The other remained silent, hovering behind the man as their head twisted while trying to see all the establishment had to offer.

Cordelia smiled, very much happy with this state of affairs.

"I was wondering when you would come down here." She informed, turning back around as her white haired companion promptly sat himself down next to her. The knight took another sip from her mug, relishing the fruity flavor and holding it with both hands. "When did you figure out where I was?"

"Little over an hour ago when we saw your office was empty." He told her. The third figure remained behind them, still observing the sights. Robin meanwhile leaned over, inspecting whatever she'd chosen before settling back down. "Hey, Pete. What's she having?"

"Honeyberry ale." The man said, crouching down and drawing out yet another bottle. "More sweet than strong, though she's had more than a few mugs. Want some?"

"One for my other friend as well." Robin asked, to which Peter complied. He took two more dried mugs, placing each in front of a stool then filled them. Seeing that they'd been offered refreshment, the figure came forth and sat on the stool on Cordelia's opposite flank.

Peter squinted his eyes at the hooded guest, then glanced back to Robin. "This another one of the Shepherds?" He asked the Plegian.

Robin nodded, taking a swig of the ale. At once his purple eyes lighted up, instantly falling in love with the flavor. "Woah. This is great!" He declared, gulping down even more of it with gusto.

Their friend watched Robin drink away happily, cautiously extending their own hand from under the guise. A feminine, purple gloved hand moved to take the cup. She then brought it to her own lips, before also beginning to drink the spirit with fervor.

Peter chuckled at the sight, leaving the bottle so the three could take from it. "Looks like I've got a new favorite to keep stocked." He commented, before looking back to Robin. "Y'know, she can ditch the hood. Not like we don't serve women here."

The mention of revealing her identity seemed to make the woman freeze in her action, placing the mug back down carefully. Robin grimaced, pondering the idea in his head.

Cordelia just sighed, nudging her counterpart with her elbow. "It's fine, you can trust him. His wife is the person who baked your wedding cake, after all."

Natal blinked at Cordelia, not registering the connection. The hooded figure hesitated, but acquiesced. Her gloved hands moved to lift the hood from her head, pulling it back to reveal the face of the Halidom's own Queen.

Peter blanched immediately, the old man's entire frame seizing up as he realized just who the hell was in his run down tavern. Words tried to leave his mouth, but only came out as jumbled blather. Robin snickered evilly as the poor dastard stammered like a child, as did Cordelia.

Finally, he stopped. Shock subsiding as he came to terms with the situation he was in. "Queen Sumia." He managed out calmly, before glaring at both Robin and Cordelia. "Why is it everytime you two come here, something strange happens?"

"We're weirdos." Robin answered with deafening bluntness, returning to nursing his drink.

"He's the weirdo, I'm his babysitter." Cordelia rectified with a grin. "Well, technically I'm both their babysitters."

"Both of them…" Peter repeated, the math adding up in his head. "Oh my Gods, you're the Captain of the Pegasus Knights." He then turned to Robin. "And what're you, a Count or something?"

"Grandmaster of the Halidom." Robin corrected as well, finishing his mug and sliding it over. "And uh, needing a refill. Please?"

"Gods' sake…" The man muttered, filling the mug up before moving over to the Queen once more. "Your Highness, I'm sorry that this place isn't exactly up to royal standards."

Sumia shook her head rapidly, a happy smile coming to her face as well. "Ii-it's no trouble at all!" She quickly amended, the same nerves she always presented when meeting new people coming to bare. "I a-acctually like this place, it's so… homey. I can tell you really do care about it."

Peter laughed heartily, hands clutching his beer-belly. "Well, that's the best endorsement I've ever gotten! From royalty no less!" He said, taking the previous empty bottle and offering it to the royal. "Here, take this. Label's still on so you can order some for the castle."

Sumia's eyes twinkled at the sight, quickly jumping to take the bottle and hold it close to her person. "Thank you so much! This is the best ale I've ever drank! The others always pick something so… burny."

"She's the biggest lightweight I've ever met." Cordelia told the man, causing her superior to blush violently.

"I'm a short girl, it's completely natural!" She protested.

"I'm only a few inches taller than you and I can out-drink Lon'qu." Cordelia pointed out, to which Robin quickly averted his eyes. No one here needed to know that Princess Lissa could drink him under a table.

Sumia pouted, cheeks puffing up before she set the bottle at the side of her stool. She then turned back to Peter, smile returning. "So this is where the cake came from? I didn't know such a great baker lived under this roof."

Peter nodded, pointing a finger up to the rooms above him. "That's my wife for ya. Girl's a proper mage with a whisk. She never told me where she learned to bake like that but, by Naga I'm grateful."

"Well I'm glad she has such a kind man as a husband." Sumia added with a warm smile, nodding over towards Cordelia. "She didn't give you much trouble, did she?"

"Tonight? Nah. When we first met? Oh, brother." He recalled, now making Cordelia blush under the new spotlight. "She ended up getting into a brawl, broke half my chairs."

"Really now?" Sumia asked, grinning towards her friend. "My my, Captain. Bar fights? How rougish of you."

Cordelia didn't respond to the jab also retreating to the comfort of her drink. Meanwhile Robin lifted a hand, a pained expression now present. "Uh… say, Petey? You got a bathroom?"

He looked back at the man, his stone-faced expression mounting back up. "Outhouse is in the yard. I'll show you so you don't trip over yourself."

Robin muttered a thanks, not even speaking against the remark. Peter opened the door leading into the kitchen, letting the Plegian hop out quickly. He said something to a person in the back, then followed Robin out of sight. Afterwards a new figure, a woman with deep black hair, walked out and continued to wash the dishes.

The two friends remained at the counter, sharing a giggle with one another.

"He's like a child sometimes." Sumia commented. "You should've seen him at the wedding, he whigged out so much when I talked to him about the job."

"He's a lot like your husband. No wonder they're as close as brothers." Cordelia noted, stretching arms out wide and groaning. She'd lost track of how many hours she'd spent drinking in this chair. Too long, judging by how stiff her shoulders felt. And how warm her face felt. By damnation, this ale was good. Plus it was a good escape from the disaster that had happened earlier.

Sumia swirrled her drink before sipping once more, licking her lips. "So. You're alright now?" Cordelia kept her arms outstretched for a few moments longer, letting both fall to her sides with a 'thump' before sighing in relief.

"Still a bit frazzled but, better." She assured. "I didn't expect so many of them to scream at me for the proposal."

"It is an old tradition." Sumia reminded. "But it isn't law so, whoever joins is totally up to you. They can all whine as much as they want."

"Sure, but now I've got a target on my back." Cordelia lamented. "Arvin tried to vote down all of our other plans out of pure spite."

"Arvin's an old coot who still thinks we're in a hundred years ago." Sumia said, dismissing the elderly man. "And your reforms did pass, so that's proof that they think you're capable enough."

"Just means they don't trust me."

"Well that's a shame, considering I get to choose who runs the Order." The Queen added with a cheeky grin, the washmaid giving both a quick glance from the corner of her eye.

Cordelia laughed softly, fingers drumming against the counter's cracked wood. "Since when did you get so assertive? What happened to the meek girl who was scared of her own shadow? I almost miss her."

Sumia rolled her eyes, her smile shrinking at the mention. "I'm… still that girl." Sumia admitted. "B-but I… I need to be strong now, y'know? I've got to take care of everyone. Not just you, or Robin, or even Chrom."

"But you're still terrified."

"Oh Gods, yes!" Sumia readily exclaimed. "I almost fainted when Robin went off on that Elector! This stuff's almost as stressful as Plegia!"

"It's… really sad how true that is." Cordelia said, lacing her fingers together and keeping both hands atop the counter.

Sumia hummed, going to take another sip before continuing. "Speaking of Robin…" Sumia started, eying her friend. "Have you made your move yet?"

"Excuse me?" Cordelia asked, completely taken off guard.

Again, Sumia rolled her eyes. "Come on, Cordelia. You know what I'm talking about."

"I know what you're insinuating, but it's preposterous." Cordelia quickly spoke, frowning gravely at her companion. "Robin's our friend, not some frivolous courtier."

"Oh please, dear." Sumia said. "I see how you two look at each other, that isn't 'friendship.' Not a normal kind anyway."

"Have you been binging 'Ribald Tales of the Faith War' again?" Cordelia accused with a pointed glare.

"Yes." The Queen admitted in a small voice, their silent eavesdropper turning red in recognition of the infamous novel. "But that doesn't mean I'm wrong!"

"Sumia." Cordelia began. "He's. My. Friend. That's it. You talk to him as much as I do."

"But I don't act the same way as you do around him." Sumia hummed.

"And how in the world do I act that's so odd?"

Sumia lifted her hand, a finger lifting with each point she made. "You're always smiling. He makes you laugh. You're always hovering around each other. Both of you clearly trust one another a lot. And-" She lifted her thumb, signifying her final point.

"He's the only man you seem relaxed around."

Cordelia opened her mouth to speak, but then promptly shut it. In fact she didn't do anything for a handful of moments, mind clearly contemplating the situation. Before she reached over for the still heavy bottle, then refilled her tankard.

Sumia cocked a brow, waiting for a response. "So, am I right?"

"No." Cordelia once again affirmed. "I'm not some love-lorn maiden anymore, I've moved on with my life onto more important things."

"And what's more important than you being happy?" The Queen asked, genuine concern in her words.

"Making sure the Pegasus Knights are restored and keeping our home safe." Cordelia declared, drinking from her freshly filled glass. "With the new standards in place, we'll be getting many new recruits. I need to ensure that they're ready."

"Wonder how many commoners'll sign on." Sumia hummed. "It'll be nice to see some fresh faces."

"Don't want to see old faces from back home?" Cordelia teased, regaining her previous mirth. "Come now, where's your Frigan spirit?"

"So we can deal with your Aunt's grandstanding again?" Sumia asked, shaking her head. "Noooo thank you. Though your cousin's likely gonna show up."

"All of our cousins will, we're famous now." The Paragon corrected. "The last two Pegasus Knights, heroes of the Halidom."

"You're the hero, I'm just a bureaucrat now." The royal adjusted, lifting her iron mug up for a toast. To which her friend joined her, both containers clinking together in meager chorus.

Both of them returned to drink, the discussion moving to less serious topics. Soon Robin and Peter returned, the man having properly relieved himself and Peter having brought out a box of sweets from the stores. The four of them shared the night together, each one trading stories over the antics they'd gotten into.

The washmaid finished her work, quietly leaving to the rear room. Hours later, the trio left together, somewhat intoxicated and in higher spirits than they'd come. They stumbled back up to the castle, catching and cradling one another all the way. To the average citizen, they were nothing special. Just three friends enjoying being alive.

Sumia's claim still rang in Cordelia's mind but, it didn't bother her.

She had friends like this, and that made her happier than ever.

* * *

_**A/N: Less of a wait than last time at least. Back to school time's here, can't wait to suffer through another college semester. Discord I mentioned from last chapter's A/N is still open for business.**_

_**Can't promise when the next update'll come but, it'll come. Take care y'all.**_

_**o/**_


	4. C-4: All for One

-Two weeks later-

Out of all the traditions Sumia could have continued from Emmeryn's reign, these public meetings were one Robin wished she would do away with.

The former Exalt liked to call these meetings of her's the 'people's counsel'. When she would go to Ylisstol's public square and speak with her subjects in a more direct and less formal manner. Citizens came forth of their own accord, paying their respects and asking for both assistance and advice in various problems. No matter the issue, no matter their age, she made time for as many as possible.

He still clearly remembered the size of the crowds that would appear every time. The whole of the square, one of the central markets of the entire city, seemed to fill with the city's denizens. If not to ask for their leader's counsel, then to catch a glimpse of her serenity. Chrom had once said that his sister embodied peace, Robin agreed with him.

Sumia had large shoes to fill. It was natural that she would try to emulate her predecessor.

But that didn't stop Robin from thinking this was a dumb damned idea.

When Emmeryn held these meetings, the Pegasus Knights could still protect her. A squadron could be called up on a whim to intervene if anything untoward occurred. She would be whisked away to safety on the back of a winged horse, while the others pacified the situation.

Many people in the city were still poor and desperate. Not all held a favorable view of House Lowell after the war. It wasn't unheard of to hear people blaming Emmeryn's innate pacifism for helping cause such damage. Much as Robin despised hearing her name disparaged, they had a point.

An armored shoulder nudged him, and he looked to see Frederick standing at his side. Both of them watched over Sumia from a distance, while Cordelia and a few junior Knights under his command acted as a proper guard for the Queen.

"Be vigilant, tactician." Frederick chastised, looking back towards their shared ward. "A vassal must always be on the lookout for threats to their liege."

Robin held in a sigh, his hands remaining in the pockets of his coat. He wasn't dressed in his new Grandmaster's regalia, no armor or pellegrina. Just his casual attire, with an arc-thunder tome and sword hanging from his hip.

"Forgive me, I'm rather inexperienced as a bodyguard." He answered with blithe temperament.

The Knight's frown only seemed to elongate when he said those words, both his eyes flicking to Robin for a breath's time. "I question why you're even present. Does the Grandmaster not have duties to attend?"

"I was bored, Sumia invited me. And I needed to get out of the castle for once." Robin replied, scanning the crowd. Rather sizable to say the least, his count was around a hundred women present. They formed a slapdash crescent in front of the royal while she addressed the latest question.

It was one of the only times Robin had seen nobility and commoner standing side by side, each one desiring the same thing.

Acceptance into the Pegasus Knights was one of the most prestigious positions a woman could have. These women were the living symbols of Ylisse's strength. They were the royal family's personal guard, one of the most elite formations on the continent, and anyone who became a member was almost guaranteed a successful career after their service.

It was no wonder that for the longest time, only blue bloods were allowed entry. Now, they were going to have to share with everyone else.

He didn't want to tell Cordelia, but he felt that this was going to backfire spectacularly.

Robin then looked to Frederick, giving him a sarcastic grin. "Besides, I figured you'd enjoy my company."

"I would rather be force-fed the carcass of a grizzly." Frederick answered grimly. A harsh insult, knowing the man's distaste for fresh game. "A frivolous reason to be derelict of your post."

"You're just upset I outrank you now." Robin pointed out, taking note as the Knight's fist clenched. Metal fingers scraping against one another in a distasteful melody.

Feeling victorious in the matter, the Plegian changed the subject. "I was thinking about how risky this is." He clarified. "One mad archer and we would be losing our second royal in as many years."

"Nor do we have many troops to spare so she can be kept secure." Frederick noted in gruff agreement. "Unfortunately Her Majesty shares His Grace's penchant for ignoring my counsel."

The jab wasn't lost on Robin, he knew Frederick had been against his appointment from the onset. But that didn't change the fact that the two had to work together beyond just this one guard detail. Teasing him wouldn't help that.

"Nor do we have an Army to loan troops either." Robin lamented. "Emmeryn disbanded it ages ago, the only Professional troops Ylisse knows are of the Knighthood and the Order."

"One of which is wounded, the other utterly crippled." The Knight-Captain observed. "After Lady Cordelia revealed her intentions, rumors circulated that some of the Electors wanted to disband the Order entirely."

Robin's eye twitched at this news, his head turning edgewise in Frederick's direction. "It won't happen." The Grandmaster assured with a vindictive ferocity. "They'd need to have Chrom agree, and Sumia would never allow it. Either that or they convince _me_ to disband the Company."

"I would not be surprised if they very well try." He continued. "Pay mind to your new position in our nation, there are many who will now use you for it."

"I'm not foolish enough to fall for honeyed words and snake oil salesmen."

"Only a fool believes himself ready for a scenario he has no experience in." Frederick countered. "You are a noble in birth and name, Robin. But you have little knowledge of the world of politics."

"And you do?"

"My family have been knights in service to the Halidom for centuries, we've held a seat in court for almost as long." Frederick informed, raising a brow to Robin as he continued to speak. "Do you know how many of the Shepherds are of high birth?"

The tactician shook his head. "Other than Maribelle and Virion? No." Robin admitted.

Frederick sighed despondently, pointing towards the two female Shepherds at the center of the crowd. "Both Sumia and Cordelia hail from some of the oldest noble families on Archanea. Their parents both aid Duchess Kaltrina in the north."

Robin followed the man's hand, looking to his two friends as they addressed a new woman who'd made her way towards them. Neither of them ever mentioned that. In fact, both women seemed keen to never speak a word about their families around him.

"Sully's father was my predecessor." Frederick continued. "That man lead the Knighthood for two decades. He survived the Crusade by the skin of his teeth, and taught me everything I know. Just as I instructed his daughter in kind."

A memory came back of Sully and Chrom discussing their adventures as children. Robin knew that she had lived in the castle. Not that she was following any form of lineage with the path she walked.

"Ricken's mother is an Elector." Frederick finished, that final revelation making Robin do a full-on double-take. Such a reaction made his current teacher crack his first smile of the day. "She was the mage who challenged Duke Arvin. His family has ruled over Pyrathi for some time."

There was a deep, black pit that formed squarely in Robin's stomach with this new knowledge.

How had he been so unaware of something so important about his friends? These were people who were the closest thing he had to family, and yet he never asked them about their _real_ families. That, or they never seemed keen to tell him.

Not after all they'd been through, the highs and lows of the battlefield. The long nights he'd spent drinking and partying with each of them. Not even over the card games and spontaneous sparring tournies the Shepherds had concocted during his time with them.

It felt… sad. As if they didn't trust him.

Frederick caught on, noticing the distinct shift in the Plegian's demeanor. His smile broke, returning to the usually disapproving frown he presented to the world.

"Do not take this the wrong way, Robin." Frederick assured. "None of them hid this from you due to malice or lack of faith. Among the Shepherds, we come from all walks of life. Who we were before does not matter."

Robin knew he was speaking truth. He knew they cared for him, he knew that they weren't trying to play him for a fool. But all of this did highlight the main point Frederick was clearly trying to make.

"...This was why you didn't want me as the Grandmaster, you think I'll become a puppet." He deducted.

"That, and I did not expect others to readily accept a Plegian into the ranks of leadership." Frederick clarified himself. "You have earned _my_ trust in your intentions, tactician. But that does not make your shortcomings disappear. You now live in a world of manipulators, schemers and liars."

Frederick paused, taking a breath. "Do not falter, it will cost us all dearly."

The Tactician groaned, his head lolling back to stare up at the sky. "At least when we were fighting the Plegians, I knew who was on my side."

"You still have us, take heart in that." Frederick chimed. "And remember, you chose to take this role."

"After everyone else basically strong armed me into doing it." Robin countered, to which Frederick rolled his eyes.

"A convenient excuse, but we both know that you enjoy this work." He replied with confidence. That was true for both of the men. Though Frederick's gaze shifted forward once more, towards the square and the fliers. "Let us discuss that point later."

* * *

Neither of the women expected such a large showing.

Even now, with recruitment being opened to those of common birth, the logistics of reaching the capitol for this day were difficult. The Duchies on the border were still undergoing a period of reconstruction. Island vassals like Warren, Pyrathi and Tayls were seemingly too far away. As for Ylisstol itself; on the surface she looked like she had completely recovered. Below it all, much of the population had still perished.

Yet there they were, at least a hundred girls ready to take on the mantle. It was supposed to be quite the happy moment.

Except for the clear segregation between the crowd. Three groups of stratified people had long since formed.

Firstly, the commoners. Daughters of shopkeepers, workers and farmers. Each one of them hung onto every word Sumia and Cordelia said, excitable beyond belief. The chance to become pegasus knights was something many of these girls only dreamed of, and now they had the chance.

The next was of the gentry. Those not of noble birth, but their families still had plenty of gold to throw around. Bankers, higher-end merchants, doctors and magistrates. The families that ran the day to day business throughout the nation. They were speaking with one another more than they were listening to the speeches and explanations.

Finally were the noblewomen. The children of barons, counts and dukes. The people who, not long ago, were the only class allowed to even join the Order. Now they were being forced to share, and the looks they were giving Cordelia, they weren't happy about it. But they were still here, they still _wanted_ to be a part of her troop. That spoke far more than any glares they threw her way.

They'd counted at least a hundred hopefuls who'd come to Ylisstol.

Over the next month, they'd need to send half of them back home. The rest would finish their training, and in time they'd be the next generation of Ylisse's defenders.

The girls began to chatter amongst themselves again as Sumia fell silent, stepping back as she finished her recollection of the Plegian campaign. Her Highness was already turning into quite the orator, only stuttering through half her memories before wrapping it all up.

"Did you have to include the part where we found Nowi?" Cordelia questioned, once again wearing her Falcon Knight gear. For once, the redhead was wearing a helmet, the metal visor casting shade over her eyes.

Sumia snorted, grinning at her friend. "Don't know, I think rescuing a manakete's a pretty good recruitment story. Besides, did you see how they reacted?"

"Don't get their hopes up. Remember most of our duties are just patrols and security." Cordelia chastised. Of course Sumia's experiences would have been different, she joined the Shepherds far before she had. While she was off boiling in a border fort, her Highness was off having grand adventures.

"But that's why we have to tell them about the fun stuff!" Sumia protested. "Think about it, they're about to become the best of the best. Do you really want to be the one to ruin their expectations?"

Cordelia frowned her friend's wording. She removed her helmet, pressing it into Sumia's chest and letting the Queen fumble around as she stepped forwards back into the crowd's view. The Paragon brought two fingers to her mouth, releasing a sharp whistle.

Every one of the onlookers' heads turned to face her, some faster than others. Cordelia stood there, waiting, until she was sure she had the attention of all who were present. Then she took a long breath.

"**I want to make something clear, before we dismiss you all."** The Captain began, voice booming through the square. "**This is not the glorious duty that the tales of yore wish to paint it as."**

The crowd mumbled in confusion, Cordelia continuing to speak despite it's presence. "**Her Highness told you about the adventures she and I had during the last War. Those were all true, but…"**

Voices died down, waiting for her to explain with trepidation.

"**They were all extraordinary." **She admitted freely. "**We do not spend our usual days rescuing Manaketes. We do not go around fighting in Feroxi Arenas or assaulting Plegian palaces. And we most certainly do **_**not**_ **spend them killing Mad Kings."**

There was no chatter now, only the focus gaze of a dozen hopeful girls listening to a war hero tell them the opposite of what they expected.

"**We patrol the countryside. We guard cities. We watch over our borders. These tasks are not exciting. They're bland, thankless and tedious work. But they are necessary all the same."**

Frowns grew across many of the onlookers, and panic began to fill in Cordelia's breast. Telling these girls the truth was turning them away faster than she expected. Behind her Sumia watched on with equal dismay, unsure if she should intervene or _how_ she could even turn this around.

Another breath. Cordelia thought back to her days as a recruit. She tried to remember what made her stick through all of this nonsense. The drills, practice, aching bones and endless marches. The torture that she was put through by the other knights. All of it was so much, often too much for her the bare. Yet she had.

Off in the distance she could see Robin and Frederick, both men watching on with unreadable expressions.

Her mind sparked back to the discussion she had with Phila, words echoing in her mind. Then, she repeated them.

"**The duty of a Pegasus Knight is never to herself." **Cordelia declared proudly, eyes scanning the crowd. "**It is demanded of us to give every once of our being for those around us. Our sisters, our Exalt. But most importantly, for the people of Ylisse."**

"**A Knight's duty is to care for their people. That can be something as simple as…" **Her gaze focused on the common people off to the side. "**...helping move a farmer's goods from his fields to the market."**

A few of the girls' faces lit up, memories of when their families had been aided by passing soldiers.

"**It can be helping a Magistrate capture a bandit, and bringing him to trial."**Jitters shook out from the center of the crowd, the well off recalling stories of how hooligans had been carted to a cell by the fliers of old.

"**It can be as simple as guarding a castle keep, keeping the leaders of our homeland safe from harm." **She finalized, the nobles in waiting beaming up as their families were mentioned. Not seeing any interruption, Cordelia continued on.

"**But above all else, we must be willing to do what is asked of us. No matter the task, no matter the cost, no matter the consequences." **The Captain affirmed, reminding them all of what brought them to this point.

"**These next months will not be easy. You will suffer, you will toil. There will come times where you will regret joining our Order. But I can promise you this. If your wish is to help others, and to be the best you can be. This is the place you belong."**

Cordelia went quiet, letting the girls speak with one another. The excited jitters were now replaced with serious and droll whispers. Sumia finally moved up again, standing to her partner's side as they both assessed the crowd.

"Talk about intense." Sumia observed, nervously scanning their newly frightened audience.

"We don't need airheads with hero complexes. The day I let some girl with delusions of grandeur slink her way into a saddle is the day I retire." Cordelia pointed out. Sumia's frown remained steadfast, to which the Captain looked on with uncloaked displeasure. "Unless you have a problem with my methods?"

The Queen didn't challenge her any further. Like it or not, nothing either of them had said was a lie.

* * *

Of all the horrors and hells that Robin had been subjected to as a soldier, none came close to what he was experiencing now.

He sat there in his new office, a room the size of some paupers' entire homes. The walls were lined with shelves, books and scrolls filling each to the brim. A grand map of the continent was hung, with the Ylissean coat of arms set behind his desk. Papers were stacked, some neatly while left in havoc, with a plethora of inkwells and spare quills present. Other furniture, rugs and ornate decorations Robin didn't care for were present.

After his discussion with Frederick earlier that day, he'd taken the man's advice to heart. He _was_ inexperienced in this world, and that needed to change. Just like any other problem he faced, Robin needed to learn and adapt. Too much was riding on his shoulders now to do otherwise.

Prepared or not, he'd let the others convince him. Chrom, Lissa, Gaius, Kellam. Sumia especially had been riding him ever since his appointment, making sure that everything she needed was finished.

Thinking back, Robin was actually taken aback by just how quickly the woman threw herself into her new role. The normally timid knight had managed to both sweet-talk and strong-arm him into going along with a lot of her plans and schemes since she was given the crown. An oddly effective mix of praise, faith, threats, little white lies and big black ones. 'Queen' Sumia could be rather terrifying when she put her mind to it.

Chrom chose well. She handled domestic affairs, he directed the reconstruction and reforms of the Halidom. Two heads of a grand body in perfect sync.

He was proud to serve them both. And like Frederick had said, he did enjoy his role. What truly still bothered him was how he'd managed to attain his position.

A year ago Chrom found him face down in a flowery field, now he was helping run a country. Whatever life he had lead before then did not exist anymore, whatever he had been doing. All that had been on his person was his weapons, clothes, some coin and travelling documents from a place called Thracia.

He knew where that was, the continent to the east. But he'd never be able to reach Jugdral or find out why he'd been there. Though it was obvious he'd clearly been on a boat once in his life. The ocean that separates that land and Ylisse was even more vast than the one between them and Valm.

Maybe he could take a leave of absence soon…

"Are you even listening to me?" Maribelle called out, spurring Robin to look up. The blonde noblewoman was standing above him, parasol in hand and eyes sharp as daggers pointed at his head.

By Naga's grace, why wouldn't she save him now?

He rapidly bobbed his head up and down, which only seemed to make her even angrier. "Truly? Then what was the last thing I said."

"Er…" Robin started, trying to recall what might've entered his ears in the past five minutes. "Something about my disgraceful Plegian mannerisms?"

Maribelle huffed loudly, quickly cracking the man atop the head like a school teacher with a meter stick. He recoiled, yelping loudly as he clutched his head with both hands. "Why do all the women around here keep hitting me!?"

"Likely because you continue to be an obstinate buffoon." Maribelle admitted, retracting the parasol back into her dual-handed grip. "For the love of the Divines, Robin. Why even request my assistance if you refuse to listen?"

He groaned, lifting his hand to check if the troubadour had broken skin. Thankfully, she hadn't, and he let the limb fall back ungracefully into his lap. "Sorry, I just... I have a lot on my mind."

"Yes, yes. I'm sure the idea of being presented in front of so many of your social betters is quite daunting to you." Maribelle waxed on, with Robin feeling no real urge to correct the woman now that she was on a roll. "But the entire point of these etiquette lessons are to assist you in high society. Do you _desire_ them to treat you a fool?"

"No." Robin admitted, levying a long and heavy sigh. "OK, OK. Where were we?"

"We were going over how to interact with your peers in court." Maribelle said, before giving the man a skittish glance. "...And I had made a comment about your disgraceful Plegian mannerisms."

The Plegian in question grinned in triumph, only to shirk away once more as his contemporary regained her murderous disposition. It was true, he had asked her to help him present himself better in front of the Nobility. He couldn't hide himself from formal meetings forever.

Once the Heiress felt she had again established her dominance, the lesson continued.

"When meeting a subject of lower standing, _they_ bow to _you_." She explained, pacing back and forth across the deserted and regal room. Her heeled boots sounded like the thumping march of soldiers, a mix of her noble and military training. "The conversation does not continue until you are properly addressed. Any less is a slight to your honor."

"Seems a bit pompous." Robin grumbled.

"When a common soldier addresses an officer, does he not salute?" Maribelle pointed out, something which Robin couldn't really argue against. "Respect must be shown both ways. Once you have been properly greeted, you may bow your head in return. _Only_ the head, move nothing but your neck."

"There's different kinds of bowing? You can't be serious." He disgruntledly inquired.

"Four different kinds. And that is only in Ylisse." Maribelle informed, causing Robin to once again groan loudly. "Be glad this is not Chon'sin, they would have you on your hands and knees."

"I'm going to have an aneurysm…" Robin darkly grumbled. "Fine, how do I address someone who's higher up the social ladder than me?"

"Than 'I'. There will be a refresher on your grammar later." She corrected, continuing before he could let out any more exasperated outbursts. "When addressing your superior or equal, you bow from the small of your back. With His and Her Highness, you kneel." She then stopped her motions, turning towards him and motioning upwards with her instrument. "Stand up, you may practice with me."

The Grandmaster sighed, but complied. Standing up from the cushioned chair he'd been resting in and went to face the younger woman a couple paces away. She rolled her hand, gesturing for him to get on with it. He straightened himself up, trying to pretend that he _was_ saluting an officer.

When an intrusive thought entered his brain.

"...What was the rank Chrom gave me when I was made a noble?" He asked innocently, feigning ignorance.

If Maribelle was losing her patience with him, by the Gods she wasn't showing it. Instead a loud 'tut, tut' left her before she explained. "Milord deigned it necessary to make you a Margrave. A rare title, but traditionally the Grandmaster is lifted to such a position."

"And he made me a peer of the realm, correct?" Robin continued to question, which earned him the slightest of eye-rolls from his tutor.

"An elder peer, yes. Your votes in the Counsel are weighted the same as an Elector's." She continued to enlighten.

Robin stroked his chin, giving the shorter girl a slow and exaggerated nod. "Hm… and what's your title again, Lady Maribelle?"

"I am a Baroness." She stated, her eyes narrowing once more as she grew more suspect. "Is there a point to these questions, or are you merely wasting our time?"

A flash of mischief danced in Robin's eye, his pensive expression morphing into a grin as he pressed the unknowing woman into a logical corner. He asked one final question, springing his trap. "What does a noble of lower standing do when they meet a superior?"

Maribelle blinked once, not understanding what he meant at first. Then her mind put two and two together, realizing the position she held compared to his. The blonde healer's face turned a deep, violent red. Both hands clenched her parasol so tightly, the wood almost splintered apart. She stood there, seething over at the man who was grinning clear as day.

She inhaled, and exhaled, her face returning to it's usual tint. Maribelle then grabbed the hem of her skirt, curtsying with the grace and dignity that befitted her station. Magnanimous in victory, Robin returned the gesture with a complete bow.

Both stood straight once more, and Maribelle's frown returned as Robin turned to walk back over to his desk, dragging the chair behind him and settling it back in place. "Did I not make it clear how to properly prostate?" She inquired, not even trying to hide her annoyance at this point.

"You said to bow like that when addressing my equals." Robin answered as he sat once more, smirking again at the young woman.

This time her cheeks went red, tinging softly as she understood the compliment. She smiled back at the man as he pulled out a fresh piece of parchment and wet a quill. "You're a silver tongued devil when you want to be."

"Only as skilled as my tutor." He replied, before pointing at one of the chairs in front of the desk. "I need to ask you a favor, by the way."

"Oh?" Maribelle asked as she moved over, patting down the hem of her petticoat as she sat down. "Two requests from the Grandmaster in a day? I'm almost honored."

Robin smiled, silently groaning at his friend's ever growing ego. Even if it was an ego well earned.

"So, I know you're aware that Cordelia just inducted her first class of recruits." He started, Maribelle nodding in acknowledgement. "I need someone to act as my observer. If I had time, I'd do it myself, but…" He gestured to the stack of papers that framed his desk, many of them only half-finished.

Maribelle tutted, folding one leg over the other as she rested her parasol over her lap. "I'm flattered that you would trust me to be your proxy, my dear." She told him. "But you must know I need return to Themis. My father requires assistance there just as much as Lord Chrom does here."

"I'm not asking you to stay for long." Robin quickly amended. "Recruitment went better than expected. About twenty more people signed on than needed. So for the first month, Cordelia's going to weed out the excess. It's the most critical part of training, the rest she'll handle autonomously."

"I am… confused then. If Dame Cordelia is handling all of this, then why is another hand necessary?" Maribelle asked, suddenly growing uncomfortable at the request. Observing was one thing, but his tone made it seem like he wanted her to act almost like a warden. Whether for the recruits or Cordelia, she didn't know.

Robin sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he remembered the discussion he and Cordelia shared before accepting the Royals' offer. "...Cordelia doesn't like taking help. Even when she needs it. She sees it as a… personal failure." He lamented. "There's no doubt about her abilities, but she's still never trained this many people before. And with this being the inaugural class, things need to go as smoothly as possible. There's a lot of eyes on this, and not everyone has high hopes."

Maribelle hummed with this information. Her father had told her that the last council meeting had been tumultuous a best. Even he walked away not pleased with the direction that the Knights seemed to be going. But… Robin. Even _Robin_ was having doubts now.

"And what of you, Margrave Medon?" Maribelle asked, using the man's formal title. Anyone who knew her, also knew that was a bad sign.

"Like I said, too much work." He informed.

"Not that." Maribelle dismissed. "What of _your_ duties? Who is helping you?"

"I can handle my own problems." Robin quickly said, growing far too defensive far too quickly. "Everyone has their issues, I have mine. There's nothing special about me."

Maribelle's frown grew even firmer. The tactician had, unknowingly, given her the worst possible answer.

"May I speak freely, your excellency?" She requested, speaking to him with a noble style.

"Go ahead." He granted, pulling a paper out to scan.

"You're a hypocrite." She told him firmly, making the man double-take back up.

"Do you really have such a high opinion of yourself that you need not the assistance of others?" Maribelle continued to drive, gloved fingers laced between one another. "Is your ego so massive that you deem it fit to send others aid while acting as though you are above such a thing?"

"That isn't-" He began.

"It's either that, the polar opposite, or some unholy brew of both." She affirmed, eyes narrowing. "In either case it's a disgraceful and frankly insulting position to hold. It dishonors you and her. Frankly I'd be even more disgusted if I wasn't certain she had the same issue."

The Plegian remained in his chair, emotions stewing in his mind. At that moment, the primary one was annoyance. _Him_ being called egomaniacal by _Maribelle_ of all people. If anyone was the hypocrite there, it was her.

But he remained silent. Seeing that he had no response, the troubadour stood up and rested her parasol against her shoulder.

"I will do as required. But know this, Grandmaster. You best right your views, lest you cause folly for yourself."

She walked away, leaving a very burned and concerned man in her wake.

* * *

As the recruits moved into the Shepherd barracks, the divide further cemented itself.

The girls who signed on divided themselves the same as before, each of the barracks floors turning into class cliques. Almost ninety of them in total, with a roughly even spread of girls coming from each background.

Come breakfast that day, each group continued to give each other a wide berth. The same happened when they were taken out for marches, three long columns formed up side by side. And then came physical training. Where each of them were driven past the point of exhaustion doing runs, lifting weights, jumping across obstacles and other methods that made their lives a living hell.

It wasn't just the Captain overseeing them as well. Two cavaliers, one dressed in green and the other in red, were watching with militant intent. They kept drilling them, over and over, until they were on the brink of collapse. Then the troubadour would go at them with a stave, and they'd be sent back into the ringer.

Many already wanted to run back home. Charlotte was not one of them.

This wasn't the first time she'd seen the Captain. That had been when the red headed wonder had drank the night away while sitting at her father's bar. She'd listen to her and the Queen talk about their plans, then helped the three nobles out the door. Hadn't spoken a word to them then, and she was still terrified of the prospect now.

Still… they all seemed nice. Nothing like the prissy rich kids she was fighting against now.

Even if she was a barmaid, Charlotte could count. There were more recruits here then there were positions in the Order. Which meant that people who under-performed were going to be sent home.

That wasn't an option for her. She didn't even live with her parents, they'd sent her to stay with her grandfather. Not enough money to feed every mouth. The pay a Knight got a month was more than her family business made in half a year. Charlotte spent her whole life trying to make an honest living, her father warned her to stay away from criminals. But it was so… damned hard.

But… if she made it. If she could just survive this… Charlotte would have a duty she was proud of and more than enough money to live her life.

Failing wasn't an option. She deserved this, and she was going to prove it.

Her feet carried her quickly across the field, a rucksack weighing her and her fellow trainees down. Endurance training, practicing to stay mobile while carrying something that weighed about as much as a suit of armor. It hurt like hell, that's for sure. But it wasn't any worse than lugging a keg of ale around.

The others weren't so lucky. Next to her, another trainee lost her footing and fell face-first into the muck. Wet, brown mud splattered on impact. Some of it hit the rear of her leg, the morning child sending shivers down her spine.

Charlotte stopped at once, going back to help her dirt-covered comrade from the earth. Said comrade hacked up a lung, having swallowed some of the mud.

The others ran past them, and they both caught up once everyone had paused the exercise. The Captain rode up on her mount, giving some explanation as to why they were doing this.

She didn't pay attention. All she heard were the disparate whispers of some blue-bloods.

"_Did you see the one with the purple hair? She was just lying down like this was a picnic."_

"_Feh, lazy commoners. Why even sign up if you aren't going to put in the effort?"_

"_I don't even know why they're letting them join if they don't care."_

"_Ask the class-traitor in front of us."_

"_Shh, pipe down."_

Charlotte scowled. To her left, she heard the girl who'd tripped sniffle. Her head aimed down as she tried to wipe the muck and grime with her sleeves. Ever prepared, Charlotte drew out her own handkerchief and began to wipe away.

"It's alright." She comforted quietly, but keeping her voice loud enough so the nobles could hear her. "You made it. Stuff whatever they think, they don't know what work even is."

The whispers died then, all Charlotte could hear was the Captain's words hovering above them.

Small victories.

* * *

Alexis was slowly beginning to lose her mind.

This entire week had just been day, after day, after day of drills. Every fiber of her muscles was burning, sore by the inch. In the mornings, they'd be woken at the break of dawn. In the evenings, they were forced to clean the whole barracks from top to bottom. In between it was never-ending exercises and hell.

She'd never worked this hard in her whole life. She never had to.

Her father was a banker. Her mother was an accountant. Growing up she'd gone to school and played with other children. Never once had she experienced any hardship like this. Everything in her life had been settled for her.

Yet here, that didn't matter. Actually, no, that was a lie. Here that was a liability. The paupers had plenty of practice dealing with this disgusting nonsense, and the nobles had been training for this most of their lives.

All Alexis wanted to do was be a hero. She'd spent her entire life on Talys, being raised on stories about the Queen Caeda. A Pegasus Knight so gallant, so strong, so kind and able to save the world. When word of the war came to her island, all she could do was sit there. Terrified, worried that the Plegians would come. Raid her home, hurt her family, destroy her life.

She had felt so, so useless. Then more than ever. And now, she could actually be something.

She was making the cut, come hell or high water.

All of the trainees stood in pairs, practice spears in hand. Today, after another grueling morning of runs, was sparring practice. For her, like many others, this was the first time she'd held a weapon. The closest she'd come before this was a broom while helping sweep the house.

Some instructors had given them a quick tutorial. A large brown haired knight with dark brown hair and a dress-blouse beneath all his armor demonstrated the basic techniques. After doing more than a few repetitions, they'd been divided up.

And that's where Alexis was now. Standing across from an olive skinned girl who clearly seemed more at home in this environment. They traded a few thrusts. One blocking the other, trying to land taps and pokes. It was all fine, until her opponent jabbed her spear into Alexis' shin.

She cried out, dropping her spear and hopping on one foot. Her assailant merely laughed at her, not caring at all. Undeterred, Alexis picked up the spear again, and continued.

Then she was struck again in the shin.

Then she was stabbed rather painfully in the gut, the padded vest she was wearing didn't blunt the blow much.

And as a coup de grace, Alexis was then struck violently in the side of the head.

As the banker's daughter fell to her knees, she could hear the cackles while the world spun. "What's the matter, princess? Can't take a few licks? I guess all you rich brats _are_ made of paper."

The spear was smacked against her back, sending her onto the ground completely. Even more laughter rang into her ears. Or was that the sound her brain? She couldn't really tell.

Another voice rang out as well, this one booming with ferocity. Both women turned to see the Captain marching over with murderous intent, her red hair seemingly lit ablaze. Alexis' ears were ringing even more now, as Cordelia tore the woman apart piece by piece with her words.

She managed to smile. At least someone here cared.

* * *

Natalia just about had enough.

Even after a lifetime of preparation, these past two weeks had gnawed at her very core. Practice, practice, practice. Running, climbing, fighting, studying. It never ended, each day just brought more of this conditioning. That's all it was, conditioning and refinement. Nothing about being a Pegasus Knight, just activities to break her down.

She wondered if her sister had to suffer through this. She'd been a pegasus knight for several years before the war. The old Captain had been known to be a harsh taskmaster as well. She must have gone through this training as well. All the blood, sweat and tears just to take on the mantle.

Her entire childhood, Natalia had it drilled into her that it was a Noblewoman's duty to be the best of Ylisse. Not just because of birth, but of character. The epitome of perfect, the pinnacle of poise. She was an heir, in time she'd have a County to rule.

If she couldn't succeed _here_, then she had no right to claim dominion over others. Her family's subjects deserved that much.

And yet she was being forced to compete with bloody **commoners**_._

Natalia marched through the barracks building, pushing around a trolley stacked with plates of food. She'd already gone through the bottom floor, handing meals out to the paupers. Thankfully they didn't try to make conversation, merely took their dinner and disappeared back inside. Now she was on the second level, the one filled with the Gentry.

It annoyed her. Paupers, she could respect. They worked hard at their station. These women had neither effort nor noble honor to their names, just stupid amounts of gold.

She took a deep breath, steeling herself, before she knocked on the door.

A girl, her face completely covered in a facial mask and cream, opened up. Behind her, Natalia could see three other women of similar appearance sitting in a circle along with a few books. Some kind of beauty party while they were studying for the next day's classroom session.

"Oh, dinner time already?" The one who answered the door declared with a wide grin. "How _lovely._ Would you mind just… bringing them all in for us?"

Yes. Yes, Natalia minded greatly. She still had to hand out food for the rest of this floor, then the next one. And she hadn't even gotten to eat yet herself, much to her stomach's dismay. But one look at the girls made it clear they weren't going to get up.

So, she swallowed her pride for the sake of speed. Picking up two plates at a time and bringing them in.

"Just leave them on the table." One of the banshees instructed her, waving with the back of her hand towards the furniture in the center. She bit her tongue and did just that, not spewing any insults below her standing. All the while, they chattered around her, very clearly unaware of who she was.

"Gods, I think I chipped a nail this morning."

"You still look lovely, Sasha. Easily the prettiest girl here."

"Not like there's much contest. Have you seen those working girls? A face only a mother could love, if that."

"The Nobles aren't any better. All bony and lanky. And they're always standing so straight and poignant. What is wrong with them?"

"Who cares about a bunch of brainless high-borns. They've never done anything. _Our_ families run things, after all. They just sip tea in their castles."

"I bet they all flunk. Then we'll get to run the show and let the paupers do our bidding."

The urge to whip around and throw something at their gossiping maws was near irresistible, but somehow, Natalia did resist. As she placed the last of the food, a pitcher of water, she prepared herself to leave.

Until she heard one last thing.

"Pardon, waitress?" One of the girls asked, looking over with casual disregard. "Could you please bring me that pie? I'd rather not stand and ruin this pedicure."

Waitress.

_Waitress._

_**What.**_

Natalia stood there, seething. A million answers ran through her brain, all of them laced with explicities that would get her kicked out of every church in Ylisse. Even if she _was_ a waitress, they were still human beings. Not slaves to be commanded around like damned cattle.

Then, an idea popped into her brain, and Natalia smiled.

She grabbed the pie, then walked it over to the girl in question. As the woman extended her hands for the fruit filled treat, Natalia crouched down, seemingly handing the dessert to her.

And then proceeded to smash it into her face.

There was a collective gasp in the room. Her target sat there, stunned as the blue filling slid down her face and mixed with the beauty product. Crumbles fell down, ruining her robe and staining her feet.

Not waiting for a response, Natalia marched out, and shut the door graciously behind her.

After which, the room was once again filled with the screams of an enraged woman.

* * *

"So how are things going?" Robin asked Cordelia. Both Shepherds were sitting in the Captain's newly furnished office, cups of coffee steaming in front of them. Both also looked ragged beyond belief, the two of them having been worked just as hard as the redhead's initiates.

The room itself had already been turned into a quasi-dormitory. Many of Cordelia's personal effects had been moved in, along with a cot that was shoved off in the corner. Off to the side one could see a cabinet, open shelves showing layers of folded clothes. Lamplight lit the room, the sun having long since descended. Her weapons and armor rested against her desk, where she and her friend were now also trying to relax.

"I thought you had Maribelle spying on me." Cordelia accused, her tone hovering somewhere between joking and displeased.

"I do." Robin admitted shamelessly. "That doesn't mean I value your word any less."

The woman sighed, clutching her cup close. "Not good." She told him, taking a long sip. "The girls have been getting along worse than I feared. Three weeks in and most still refuse to talk to one another. It's as if they're a different species."

"May as well be." Robin admitted. "Chrom told me that the divide was very strong under his father. I can't say I'm surprised that it's persisted."

"I can." Cordelia answered with a snort. Her friend chuckling as he drank his beverage. "Emmeryn's rule was supposed to change all of that. For a long while, it did. At least it seemed to have."

"Old grudges die hard. You and I both know that." Robin reminisced, Gangrel's mad rants filling his ears again. Vengeance drove that madman to commit so many atrocities. Though even now, he found it hard to blame Plegia for their anger. Partially because he knew that was his homeland now.

Cordelia sighed again. She went to take another sip, when the door of her office swung open. Robin turned around, nearly losing his grip on his own cup. The Captain watched on, expecting this to happen tonight.

"I take it that's you, Gaius?" She called over.

"You know it, Red." The thief called back, stepping into the room. This was the first time in a while either had seen him in his usual garb. For a while he'd either been forced into formal wear, or wearing a multitude of disguises to carry out his new duties as Spymaster. "And, I've brought guests."

He looked back outside, sending a sharp whistle to those still standing there. Three girls then walked in, each of them chattering nervously. Robin instantly recognized them as recruits, the tall onyx haired one in the middle seemed especially familiar. They were all in various dress, most of them clad in some kind of apron. Servants clothes.

Gaius closed the door behind them, locking it shut. Cordelia set her drink down, beckoning the girls to come over to her desk. Robin backed away slowly, not wanting to be caught in between this.

"You ladies all read the enlistment contract before signing it, yes?" Cordelia said, her voice becoming cold and distant. Each of their heads bobbed up and down. "Then you all know why you're here."

One of the girls, a shorter purple-haired one, gulped audibly. Another one played with her own pink locks, eyes boring into the floorboards.

"Recruits are not allowed to leave the barracks area unless given permission by myself, or a higher authority." The Captain refreshed, looking over to Robin. "Grandmaster, did _you_ give any of these trainees permission?"

Robin shook his head, hands held in his lap. "No. And I know neither his or her Highness has either."

"Indeed. And yet, I have it on good authority you five have done else-wise. As your outfits clearly show." She pointed out. None of them spoke still, fear permeated their entire beings. This was the end of the line. At any moment they were all going to be dismissed from the group, and all their efforts would be for naught.

Though, that wasn't what Cordelia said next. Instead, her eyes focused on the middle girl.

"Explain." She demanded.

The girl froze as she was put on the spot. Sound still refused to leave her breast, even as her fellow condemned looked at her to defend their case. The whole world seemed to go dark around her.

It wasn't until Gaius nudged her from behind that her senses came back.

"We… needed some money. So we took on secondary work." She admitted shamefully. "Captain, I'm sorry. But please, you need to understand, we didn't do this out of disrespect."

"You broke the rules for gold. That's your excuse?" Their Captain growled, pushing herself back onto her feet. Cordelia wasn't the tallest woman in the world, but at that moment, no one else seemed larger. "There's more to it than that, and you know it. Stop hiding things from me."

"Our families needed the money." She admitted further. "All of us had to leave our old work. And we had to spend our first month's pay to buy our armor and spears."

"You and every other recruit here." Cordelia remarked pointedly. "It's been the tradition of our Order that each woman owns her equipment. It's your property, and your responsibility. Most people see it as a point of pride."

"We _are_ proud! But pride doesn't fill someone's belly!" The black haired girl protested loudly, fists clenched and face red. "We've done everything asked of us! And now we're going to lose it all because some Frigan Noblewoman cares more about her stupid **traditions **than our well-being!"

Everyone turned to the raging recruit as those words slipped out of her mouth faster than she could stop them. Both her hands shot up, covering her lips as a panicked squeak left her. Silence ruled the room in totality, no one speaking a word. Robin and Gaius exchanged worried glances, the latter backing towards a window so he could make a quick getaway.

The Captain's disposition, thankfully, didn't shift. Cordelia inhaled deeply, sitting herself back down as she pulled the drawer on her desk open.

"You're all going to make a choice." She declared. "You either follow the rules from this point on, or you leave. Understood?"

Trepidatiously, the trio nodded again. Meanwhile their leader fished out a felt pouch, throwing it out onto the desk. "I'm not going to change the way things are done just your sakes. It'd be unfair to the others."

The dark haired elder dropped her hands, reaching forwards to take the pouch. She pulled the string, letting it sag open to reveal a pile of gold within. The yellow metal glistened in the dim flame. One of them gasped in shock, slipping a hand in to pull out a coin.

"But… we don't get paid for another two weeks." She noted.

"And this is more than our rate!" Another chimed.

"That's because it isn't your pay. It's mine." Cordelia pointed out. "As I said, I won't throw out traditions. But I'm willing to bend them. Split that amongst yourself and get back to sleep."

The girls didn't hesitate, two of them firing off a hap-hazard salute before each of them ran for the door. Their escort opened it for them, before letting it shut again as they left.

"Well, well, well." Gaius noted, leaning up against the wooden frame. "The biggest stickler in the Shepherds has a heart after all."

"Kiss my arse." Cordelia shot back, leaning back in her chair and letting her arms sag. Robin laughed, never having heard the woman swear before. "Gods above, these girls are going to be the end of me."

* * *

The next few days were light on physical strain. Instead the girls found themselves sitting in classrooms, being taught the organization and hierarchy of their new Order. Top to bottom, ranks and purpose. Roles and positions, who was senior over the next.

Leadership was something that would need to be filled in time. Corporals to lead sections, sergeants to lead platoons. Down the line one of them might even be made the Lieutenant, if they proved themselves worthy.

Right now, they were just trying to even be normal troopers.

Alexis sat on her lonesome, reading and resting while in the full mess hall. Three weeks they'd been training, and not once had they been allowed near a pegasus. The closest they came was the Captain's own stead, a beautiful white beast that never strayed far from her partner. No, instead they'd been treated like common soldiers. Ground-bound. It was disappointing to say the least.

Not like that was the biggest problem on her mind. Trying to keep up was hard enough as is.

The past month had been a lesson in survival. Between all the drills and classes, she had to dodge constant pranks and arguments. Everyone was on a razor's edge, constantly trying to prove they deserve to be here more than the others. And it kept getting worse. Someone filled all the commoners' water with salt, then the next day someone dyed all the nobles' practice vests brown. And yesterday they'd found someone of _her_ group tied up in a broom closet wearing a mop-wig.

She didn't even _want_ to fight the others. All Alexis wanted was to learn. Was that so wrong?

"What are you reading?" A voice called behind her.

Behind her, one of the other noble girls was hovering over her shoulder. Alexis fumbled the book in her hands, dropping it onto the mess-hall floor. She could already hear the derisive snickers as she bent down to pick it up, but before she did so, the other trainee had already grabbed the novel and taken it.

"Excuse you, give that back!" Alexis protested, standing upright.

"Let's see…" The white haired harlot said, flipping to the cover. "Hm. 'An Idiot's Guide to Pegasus Care'." She read, her eyes then flicking over to the novel's apparent owner. "Well, if the shoe fits…"

Another round of giggles echoed around her. Alexis tried to bottle up her emotions, not wanting to break down and give these bullies the satisfaction. "I said, give it back."

"Ah ah ah, what's the magic word?" The thief asked. "Come now, you can't be that slow. Surely you must've learned _some_ manners growing up. Then again, I doubt your ilk had much stimulation."

That did it. That was the straw that broke the wyvern's back. After days of physical and mental abuse, she'd had enough. Something, somewhere deep inside Alexis' mind finally snapped in two.

In a flash, her hands shot up. One went to smack her across the face, the other tore the book back from her grasp.

Her target stumbled back, skin burning from the contact. A few moments of disbelief hung between the both of them; one not comprehending they'd been slapped, the other not believing they'd slapped someone.

Then that all fell apart, as the noble rushed forward and tackled her to the ground.

And it all went downhill from there.

* * *

Yet again, a group of girls found themselves presented in Cordelia's office. Five of them this time, each one battered in some way. They stood at attention, the best they could manage given the circumstances. Most of them were covered in fresh bruises and cuts. The white haired girl sported a new black eye, while her main opponent had an ice pack as a hat.

This time was different though. It wasn't just Cordelia and Robin placing them on edge.

Chrom and Sumia were present as well.

And both of the royals were **not happy.**

The small brawl had escalated quickly into a full on battle royale. The entire mess hall, almost twenty people in all, had devolved into an all out slugfest. Tables were ruined, the walls were caked with food. Almost everything was going to need to be repaired or replaced in some fashion. More than a few trainees were still being treated by Maribelle in the infirmary.

After the dust settled, these five had been singled out as the instigators.

The Exalt stood there, shaming the three of them for a full hour. Not once did he even seem to take a breath while railing them into the ground. It was the angriest his friends had ever seen him, almost as enraged as he'd been during his battle with Mustafa.

When his burning had finished, he looked to Robin and Cordelia. Anger still blazed behind his eyes.

"I want them all **out of my castle.**" Chrom demanded. "If they can't even protect each other, I don't want them anywhere near my family."

"Done. I have all their papers ready here." Robin assured, the yellowed pieces of parchment held firmly under the crook of his arm.

"Good." Chrom affirmed, focusing his gaze on Cordelia. She herself had been silent this whole time. When word came of what happened, she'd fainted at her desk. Now she just watched, expression unreadable.

Sumia was of a more pliable state. Behind her back she was plucking away at the pedals of a daffodil, mentally trying to decide what to do. If word of this brawl made it to the outside, it'd be even more reason for people to call for her project's termination.

When finally, Cordelia spoke.

"I'm not dismissing them until I hear what they have to say for themselves." Cordelia told the room. Chrom took pause, never having dealt with Cordelia defying an order before. Sumia bobbed her head as well, clearly in agreement with her companion.

That was when the black-eyed noble came forward.

"I take full responsibility." She readily admitted. "It was my actions that caused this folly. I was acting like an impotent brat, and assaulted one of my peers."

"Hrm." Cordelia hummed, pacing forward so she stood in front of the woman. "...Natalia, isn't it? You're the daughter of Count Rhyl."

"I am." The girl admitted.

"Your father's an honorable man. I doubt he'd approve of these acts." Her senior mused.

"I'm well aware I've shamed my family, Captain." Natalia said. "Which is why I'm willing to bare punishment. My only request is the others be spared dismissal."

"Wait." The girl with the ice-cap said, moving forwards as well. "It's not her fault. I'm the one who struck first. She took my book, and I smacked her. Nat was just protecting herself."

"...And I was the one who threw the cake." Another woman whimpered out. "I saw her grab Alexis, and I thought I had to do something to help."

"I broke the tables! I was trying to make cover while everyone else was throwing things."

Each of the girls started yelling over one another, trying to cover for each other's misdeeds. The room was filled with a cacophony of voices, growing louder and louder as the trainees suddenly switched from attacking one another to try to save one another's skin.

It didn't stop until Chrom bellowed out, silencing the lot.

All of you, wait outside." Cordelia quickly ordered. Each of them complied, scurrying out and shutting the door behind them.

Sumia looked between the four of them before speaking her peace. "I-I think we should give them another chance."

"Excuse me?" Chrom asked, not understanding his wife's words. "Sumia, they attacked one another."

"And caused hundreds of coins in damages." Robin added on. "I'm with Chrom, they need to go."

"But they apologized! That has to mean something, right!?" The Queen protested.

"They're just trying to run away from consequences." Robin toted back.

"If that was the case, they would've blamed one another, not themselves." Cordelia hummed. The five they pulled weren't from the same clique, commoner to noble had been dragged out here. It was the first time she'd seen them actually try and help someone else.

It gave Cordelia an idea.

"I'm going to take some of them out on a patrol." She informed the three. "Just trust me."

* * *

Night fell on the countryside. The cool breeze of late summer pushed through the branches and bushes. An owl called out to the sky, stars twinkling across the deep blue landscape. In the center of it all, a half moon shone overhead.

Within the forest, a campfire crackled with life. Orange illumination took the place of the bleak darkness. Tents were pitched in a wagon circle, knights to be mulling about on guard duty. This was the first time any of them had left the compound in full armor. Their steel helmets and breastplates shone in the moonlight.

About twenty of them had volunteered for this. The rest remained in Ylisstol, under the careful eye of the Queen.

Alexis sat by herself again. Her helmet was off, and in her hands was a ration bar of oats and fruit.

She didn't know why she was still here. The moment she'd been called into the Captain's office, she'd made her peace. She failed, that was completely true. Lost her wits and attacked someone over a few teases. It was humiliating. Now though, she at least had some chance to redeem herself. One of the reasons she volunteered for this.

Across from her another woman sat down. Her spear was put to the side as she drew out a book and flipped it open somewhere in the middle.

Alexis took another bite, eyes fixing on the cover. The light barely made the words legible, but it was enough for her to make it out.

"Is that 'Wyvern Wars'?" She asked, mouth full. Her newfound company lifted her head brow cocked.

"Yeah. Newest book in the series." The reader told her, closing it again so she could show the cover art. 'Wyvern Wars: Horror of the Coast' was scrawled over the top, some large seaborn monstrosity attacking from the waves at the back of wyvern riders.

"I'm still on 'Terror at High Noon'." Alexis told her, leaning closer. "It takes a while for things to get shipped where I live."

"Oooh, that's a good one. When Ronald flew through that tornado and tackled that griffon rider in mid air?"

"And then they both had that fistfight while the wind pulled them into the sky?"

"Yeah! Then the rest of the Wyvern Warriors came in to help catch him before he face-planted into the ground!"

"Roger swooped in _right before_ too! I thought he was gonna die!"

"Oh come on, the wouldn't kill a main character."

"I dunno, they did kill Sebastian. Remember, the Dark Mage gauntlet over Duma's Ingle?"

"Right. Man, that was bullshit." She said, Alexis turning red at the sudden curse. Her counterpart laughed, letting the book rest on the ground next to her spear. She then leaned over the fire, extending a hand. "Charlotte."

"Alexis." The rich girl responded, taking the commoner's hand. Both shook over the flames, then delved back into their literary discussion. Things shifted away from that series, moving onto other genres. Suspense, non-fiction, romance. Both seemed to have a bottomless well to draw from.

Neither stopped until another figure came to the fireplace. Alexis looked up, then saw who exactly it was. Her eyes then darted back down towards the flames, cheeks turning rosy.

"Either of you need a refill?" Natalia questioned, pitcher of water in her hand. Her own spear and helmet were slung over her armor.

"Depends, is it full of salt again?" Charlotte asked, not wanting to get duped twice.

Natalia rolled her eyes, pulling out her canteen and filling it with water from the pitcher. She then took a swig, swallowing it without issue.

Now assured, Charlotte gestured for the pitcher. It was passed over, and Natalia sat down herself.

The sound of water filling the container took the place of speech, until Natalia also laid eyes on the novel that was resting on the ground.

"Is… is that '_Horror of the Coast'!?_ I thought they were sold out!" She exclaimed.

"Really? I didn't know that." Charlotte observed, trying the cap back onto her canteen. "My folks just got it for me as a birthday gift."

"How did they…" Natalia asked, unable to finish the sentence. Charlotte just shrugged.

"My Dad has his ways." Charlotte answered cryptically. Not smart, telling people that your father was a smuggler. Instead she reached for the book, handing it out for the noblewoman to take. "You wanna borrow it? I already read it once."

Nat looked onto the bound novel as if it was the most precious thing on the planet. She hesitated, not making a move despite every fiber of her being saying she should. "You wouldn't mind?"

"Just keep it in one piece, Princess. I unlike you two, my family can't just buy replacements."

"I am _not_ a Princess. My father is a Count, not the Exalt." Natalia corrected.

"Yeah, and I'm the Queen of Valm. You want the book or what?" Charlotte dismissed. To which Nat snatched it away with any further fanfare.

Alexis chuckled at the sight, poking at the flames with a stick to turn over a log. "Gods, it's freezing out here."

"Tell me about it." Natalia hummed, shivering as she rubbed her arms for some semblance of warmth. "What I'd do for some extra blankets. At this rate I'm going to set a fire in my own tent."

"You and me both, sister." Charlotte agreed.

"Why are we even out here?" Alexis questioned. "We've been training for a month, and not once has the Captain put us on a Pegasus' back. We aren't just militiamen."

"It's more complicated than that." Natalia pointed out. "Pegasi are very picky with who they let ride them. You need to form a true bond first."

"I thought that was all just legend stuff." Charlotte said.

Natalia shook her head. "Trust me, it isn't. They only let women of pure heart fly them, or so the stories go."

"No wonder she hasn't let us near them. We can barely handle being near each other." Alexis lamented sadly.

"We're… making progress." Natalia considered. "I mean, we're all talking with one another now, right?"

"Yeah, after that fight in the Mess." Charlotte said, the commoner winced as the pain in her back flared up. She'd gotten caught up in that as well, never having thought someone would use a roasted turkey as a weapon against her. Then again, this whole experience had been… 'enlightening'.

Natalia laughed nervously, rubbing the back of her neck. Alexis quieted down once more, both of them sharing a glance.

"I'm sorry, by the way." The heiress said.

"I am too." Alexis said, moving to do the same act Charlotte had done before to offer a hand. "...Friends?"

"Friends." Nat readily accepted, shaking firmly.

"Awww, adorable." Charlotte mused. "I heard you two even got to see the Exalt after that."

"Perhaps." Natalia answered weaselly, mouth curling up.

"Hm." Charlotte mused, leaning forward a bit. "Is he hot up close too?"

Nat laughed at the request, but her grin just grew wider. "Oh, you have _no_ idea. The man is six feet of chiseled **perfection**. If it wasn't for the circumstances, would've been all over him."

"Mmmm." The commoner hummed in mirth, imagination starting to go wild. "What I'd do to those arms…"

"He was OK." Alexis answered with a shrug.

"Only 'OK'? What, you didn't catch a glimpse?" Charlotte asked.

"I think she was too busy undressing the Captain with her eyes." Natalia countered, giggling as Alexis went as red as her eye-candy's hair.

Charlotte laughed, throwing her head back. "Imagine that! Someone having a crush on the Cap!" She joked, looking on to her new friend's embarrassing form. Though, Alexis didn't respond. Instead she just remained curled legs close to her chest, locking herself down.

"Wait. Hold up, do you… _actually_ have a thing for Lady Volkner?" Charlotte asked.

"There a problem with that?" Alexis shot back sharply.

"Considering she's our leader, yes." Natalia observed carefully.

"You were _both_ just drooling over his Highness!" Alexis hissed. "He's more than just our leader, he's _married!"_

"...Y'know what, fair 'nuff." Charlotte admitted, accepting her hypocrisy. "Didn't know we had anyone in the unit who was queer."

"There's a few of us. We keep to ourselves." Alexis added with a shrug.

"Hm." Natalia hummed, before her face lit up. "I have an idea. Once we get leave, the three of us head to town. Girls night out, see if we can get some plus-ones."

"Oooh. I'm down." Charlotte hummed. "You two aren't from around here, right?" Both of the other girls shook their heads. "Right, I'll show you guys _all_ the cool spots. Know the whole city like the back of my hand."

"Maybe we could invite some of the others as well?" Alexis asked.

"Sure. More the merrier." Natalia added happily. "It'll be our first break after pay, too. I can't wait to check out the shops here."

"**Guard change!" **The girls heard their Captain holler. The three of them hopped up at once, fixing their helmets on and readying their spears. Each of them ran out over to the camp's edge, where Cordelia was standing as she spoke to the last shift. The only man in camp, the Grandmaster himself, stood by her. Both wore worried faces.

"You're sure she's fine?" Robin asked, hand resting on his sheathed sword.

"Yes, Sir. Maggie just needed to relieve herself, is all."

"Should have waited for her. It's easy to get lost in this darkness." Cordelia commented, displeased at the clear lack of common sense. As the trio marched up, her focus shifted from the old guard to the new one.

"Girls. You're with the Grandmaster and myself." She ordered, waving for them to follow. "Come on, we need to find one of your comrades."

"Did something happen, Captain?" Natalia asked, falling in line behind the Falcon Knight.

"Margaret needed to take a bathroom break, and she told her group not to wait up." Cordelia informed the three of them. "Likely nothing, but I want to be sure."

The five of them wandered into the willows then, off to find the missing Knightling.

* * *

On one hand, Robin was glad to finally be free of the city. The fresh air and cool night were a nice contrast to the compact, heated halls that were the royal palace and Ylisstol's tight streets.

On the other, this foray into the wild was even more proof he was growing further out of shape. If the fire in his legs was any evidence to that.

He'd come along despite Cordelia's protests. She insisted that another hand wouldn't be necessary, but after recent events this was all spiraling out of control. Friend or not, he was the Grandmaster. He held dominion over all soldiers in Ylisse, that meant these women as well.

Robin didn't like it. He could sense that this whole affair had damaged their relationship extensively. From sending Maribelle to 'assist', to cross-checking of her lesson plans, to him almost overruling her call on dismissing some trainees. Neither had spoken for a week before this night.

Still, he couldn't keep a light hand on things. If this class failed, then the calls to disband the Order would only amplify. She had to understand. He was doing the right thing.

At least, he hoped.

They'd been searching for the lost girl for an hour now, with no trace to be found. The girls had called her name loudly with no response given. After searching the area, in the distance they could see a plume of smoke curling into the sky. A fireplace, not one of theirs.

Now they were here, Robin and Cordelia kneeling as they scouted out a cabin in the woods. mulling about. Pitched huts dotted around the wooden building, cages filled with different animals stacked high.

Poachers. Not an uncommon kind of bandit. Usually they only targeted wildlife, but it wasn't unheard of for them to kidnap people for ransom. And the yelling that was coming from the cabin was further evidence.

"Seven outside. Probably another two indoors with your trooper." Robin deducted, tome in hand. "They look drunk."

"They _smell_ drunk." Cordelia corrected, wigging at the air. "Your plan?"

"Launch a thoron bolt into the center of camp. The explosion should cause enough confusion for the two of us to rush in and dispatch these people." He pointed out.

"Why not sneak in? They might harm Margaret if we attack."

"Because even _if_ we sneak in, once we get inside there's still no way to avoid a fight. Then we're stuck in a small, confined space surrounded by a bunch of bandits with sharp objects."

"Do you always have to be so condescending?"

"I'm just stating the facts."

"Sure."

Robin groaned, looking over his shoulder at the other girls. "You three, stay here. We'll handle this."

"What?" Natalia asked. "You must be kidding. I'm not staying behind when someone's in peril."

"She's not a Noble, Natalia. She's a Magistrate's daughter." He informed her, expecting the woman to lose any investment then.

He was wrong.

"With all due respect, Grandmaster, I fail to see how that's relevant." Natalia countered.

"Maggie's my friend, I don't wanna leave her in there." Alexis protested.

"I'm with them. This is what we've been training for." Charlotte finalized.

Robin groaned yet again, shooting Cordelia a pleading look. The redhead turned around, facing her three students and keeping her voice low.

"Girls. When we attack them, we won't be striking to maim." She said. "These are bandits, not dummies or sparring partners. It's kill or be killed. Everyone in that camp is going to be put down, unless they surrender. Do you understand?"

"I'm gonna be honest, Cap." Charlotte answered. "If we run from this, we don't have the right to be Knights."

Alexis nodded along. "I-I'm scared, but I know that we can't avoid this forever. We're supposed to stop criminals, aren't we?"

"It's our duty to squash injustice. If they don't lay down their arms, we'll do what we must." Natalia affirmed. "Besides, they're drunk and we've been taught by the best. We can do this."

Cordelia took pause, thinking their words over.

It was true, this was what they'd signed up for. And they were more than ready for an objective like this. They were soldiers, killing was sadly a part of the job. And with the plans she and Sumia had in place, raiding bandits wasn't going to be an uncommon occurrence for any of them.

Like it or not, this was also a lesson they had to learn.

Cordelia sighed, not nodded softly. "OK. You're helping."

"Captain-" Robin began, but he was quickly silenced by the flaming gaze that his 'subordinate' shot her way.

"Kindly amend your strategy, _tactician._" She answered back, not even addressing him by rank.

He swallowed a curse, then waved for the others to move to his side so he could explain.

"The plan's mostly the same. I'm going to fire a blast to stun everyone outside. Cordelia and I will rush the cabin and help your friend. You four will capture the thugs outside with the rope in your kits. If any of them resist, do what you must."

Each of them nodded in understanding. Robin stood to his feet, hand extending out while his other opened the tome. Crackles of yellow energy began to race up from the pages and along the length of his arms. Static filled the air, the charge making every hair on their heads seem to levitate.

Then, a clap as the bolt fired out. Followed by the explosion. A small crater was made as the poachers were thrown into the air, axes flying from their grasps.

Not wasting a moment, the five of them rushed out.

The girls did as they were told, running up to the injured and binding their hands together. A few of them struggled, but given their state they couldn't really resist.

Meanwhile, Robin and Cordelia busted through the cabin's front door.

There was plenty inside. A bed, crates full of likely ill gotten goods. Next to the wood furnace, they could see their lost knightling hogtied. Her armor had been removed but her clothes were, thankfully, untouched. Though she was clearly bleeding from her scalp.

But that wasn't the main issue.

Before her was a single, massive, hulking man. His head nearly hitting the roof. A gladiator's helmet and fur-trimmed collar were his predominant features, along with what seemed to be an inhuman amount of muscles covering his arms and chest. A double headed axe was held in his hand, ready for bare.

Cordelia readied her lance, couching the spear in his direction. "He's mine."

Robin didn't protest. As she charged forward to engage the warrior, he ducked under him and quickly cut the captive free of her bindings.

The warrior brought his axe down in a strong, overhead strike. It forced Cordelia to jump back and disengage, going on the defensive. He swung again after, the blade whistling over her head as she pivoted underneath like a ballet dancer.

She send a quick stab in response, but her target lifted his axe again and used the side to deflect the spear's tip. Again, Cordelia was forced to dodge. Each jump, dive and turn she made, she tried to find some kind of hole in his defense.

No such luck. Each strike made, he'd deflect. Each slash, he'd block. The weakness of fighting with a spear against an axe, you had to be defensive.

Behind her, she heard Robin hurrying their quarry back outside. The poacher moved to cut them off, but she dove in front of them, blocking the strike at the neck of her spearhead, then parrying the axe from his grip.

But unfortunately for her, that brought her far too close.

The warrior's large hand went out, grabbing Cordelia by her breastplate with both hands. She was an easy carry, most riders tended to be on the shorter side, and was hefted above the man's head. He laughed in victory, shaking the Pegasus Knight up and down to disorientate her.

After which, he threw her out the cabin window like she was a ball. Glass shattered violently before she slammed against the ground.

"**No!"** Robin called out, running over to help at once. A steel sword was brandished, positioning himself between the lumbering mass and the glass-impaled knight.

The recruits were occupied, trying to fend off the other poachers who'd picked themselves up before they could bind them. The one they rescued moved to assist her comrades, having picked up an axe and clearly looking for some payback.

Which left Robin and Cordelia alone with this one.

Robin looked behind him, seeing Cordelia try to help herself back up with her spear. From what he could tell, the glass hadn't pierced her armor. She didn't even seem to be bleeding, just very bruised.

"I'll handle him." He said as the warrior encroached.

"Robin, wait!" Cordelia demanded, getting onto a knee as she tried to take a breath.

He didn't wait. Tactically, it made more sense for them to pull back and regroup. Have all six of them attack this one large target at once. Use the trees and their higher speed to their advantage.

But he wasn't thinking tactically.

This dastard had hurt her, and he was going to pay.

As he ran forward, jumped into the air and made an overhead lunge. One that was quickly intercepted by the axe. As he hit the ground again, he made a dirty strike for the warrior's legs. It made contact, red showing as the cut was made along the calf. But the strike was barely a glance, and his opponent didn't even seem to register any pain.

He ducked under yer another slash, and this time thrusted for the warrior's side. Again, a glance. But this time the poacher grunted in pain. Robin stood up as his opponent turned to face him, back towards the others.

Fatigue was starting to set in. Contrary to popular belief, it was harder to keep up a fight for longer than a few minutes. That went double for a man who was more mage than swordsman. So as the poacher stomped forward, Robin backpedaled away. Further and further, until he felt the wall of the cabin.

Not quite between a rock and a hard place, but just as bad.

The Warrior lifted his axe one last time, bringing it down in an overhead strike with a monumental amount of force. Robin lifted his blade up to block it, but he was no Chrom. He lacked the strength to block such a strike directly.

His sword was knocked away, and the blade of the axe dug in violently to his shoulder.

The forest filled with a Plegian's scream of pain. One that was cut off as the poacher then leaned forward and grabbed him by the throat and dragged him up along the wooden building. Each log digging more and more splinters as the wound gushed his own sanguine.

The world was going dark, fast. He couldn't breath or think, just struggle aimlessly as he tried to pry the iron grip free from his neck.

Until the grip, oddly, was released. Another scream filled Robin's ears, this one not his own.

He fell back to the grassy ground, pain shooting further up his arm from the impact. Looking up, behind him he saw Cordelia again. Now with her spear buried deep into the poacher's back. Fire and fury written all over her face, rage that he hadn't seen Phila herself had been killed.

"No one. Touches him. **But me.**" She declared. To her victim, and the rest of the world.

Cordelia twisted her lance violently, sending it deeper into the bandit and ripping into his heart. He fell over into a pile of person, dead before he hit the dirt.

Then she ran over to Robin, not even pulling her weapon free.

"Robin. _Robin._" She pleaded hands cupping the man's face as she averted his eyes to her own. "Talk to me. Come on, please."

Talking hurt. Moving hurt. Everything hurt. Try as he might, the Grandmaster was still hovering between consciousness.

"Don't leave me." She pleaded, the knight's voice breaking apart. Behind her she could hear the victorious yells and laughs of her recruits, but that didn't matter. All other sound was sucked away, the world melting into the periphery as she looked on.

All that mattered was the most important person in her life was bleeding out in her hands.

"I can't lose you too." She begged. "_Please_, Naga. Not you too. Don't leave me alone again."

Robin coughed, his brain growing less and less fuzzy.

The world flooded back, his senses returning one by one.

Until all he could see was the woman he cherished breaking down before him. Robin weakly lifted his hand, taking hold of Cordelia's own as she kept her own grasp on his cheeks.

"Not happening." He promised hoarsely, cracking a defiant smile.

Cordelia blinked, then smiled as well. She leaned forward and rested her forehead against his, laughter spreading to them both.

* * *

The rest of the patrol was, to put it simply, boring.

Robin's injuries were, thankfully, not life threatening after being treated. His arm was put into a sling, and his shoulder was swath in bandaging, but there was no risk of his expiration. Even without a healer amongst them to use a stave. Against Cordelia's protests, he demanded they spend the full four nights outside.

They did so, moving from village to village. They attended each door, seeing if they could help in any way possible. The guarded farms, helped move goods, even ended up helping an apothecary find some herbs.

All the while, that divide seemed to break down. The three that had come to capture the poachers soon began to hang together openly, and their camaraderie soon spread to those around them. Between their guard shifts, helping the townsfolk and watching over the prisoners, discussion was born.

They weren't all friends yet, but it was a crucial first step.

In time they all lumbered back to Ylisstol, and each one of them returned to the barracks. Sumia had taken it upon herself to remove some of the more aggressive recruits. And with their departure, the cliques seemed to dissolve even further.

Things were finally looking up.

"I don't know how you did it, Cordelia. But I think we've finally broken through to them." Chrom said, the four leaders sitting in the Grandmaster's quarters. "If things keep going like this, you might be able to introduce them to the Pegesai soon."

"Sumia and I are way ahead of you." Cordelia promised.

"Yep! Got it all figured out!" Sumia cheered in agreement. "Now that all the bad apples are gone, they'll finally be able to ride without scaring their mounts!"

"And avoid breaking something on the fall down." Cordelia amended. "The hard part is over, and not a moment too soon."

"Quite." Chrom chirped, sizing up the still injured Plegian. "Double for you, Robin. How's the arm?"

"Lissa says it'll be healed in a week." Robin said. "I'll be ready for that trip to Archenea, don't worry. Have you decided who'll be joining us?"

"Frederick, obviously." Chrom informed. "Stahl, Ricken and Virion as well."

"You're sure you don't want one of us to come along?" Cordelia asked. "Sumia or I can handle the next phase alone."

"It's a civic trip, I don't need bodyguards." Chrom assured. "And Sumia agrees that she'll be better served ministering to the city."

The Queen hummed in concordance, thumbs twiddling as usual. It was the first official trip that Chrom was making as Exalt, going to inspect the Duchy south of them. Harvesting season was coming soon, and the Government needed to know what needed doing before that happened. Food needed to flow, and people needed to be fed.

But that was a matter for next time.

* * *

_**A/N: Another installment. Finals are hitting me hard, so things're a bit slow.**_

_**Once again I'm gonna advertise the Awakening Discord I help run. We also got stuff for Fates too, if you like'em both. Code is **_**_Pgemj2D_**

**_Also, I did draw a map for the world of Interim. i.i m gur q Ly hD HG. jp g (Because FFN hates links, for some reason)_**

**_Also also, thanks for all the reviews. I'm always happy to please. And for the Guest who asked, yes. I think that's why he invaded, along with general racism._**

**_Until next time_**

**_o/_**


	5. C-5: Southbound, Part 1

-One week later-

They all sat around the meeting table, in the same cordoned off room that the nobles had gathered in over a month prior.

Robin and Frederick remained stoic and silent, both lost in thought and stunned by disbelief. Stahl nervously munched on a sweet roll, he always ate more to calm his nerves. Then again, he always ate no matter what. Ricken watched on, eyes as wide as dinner plates.

Chrom was seething, while Gaius lazily sucked on a sucker. He savored the confection for a few more seconds, before pulling it out with a loud 'POP'.

"Are you really that surprised, Blue?" Gaius asked. "Highwaymen ain't new. And without Knights or the Shepherds running around catching crooks, this is basically the golden age of being a bandit."

"It still disturbs me that they're so bold to attack armed transports." Frederick hummed, the older soldier stroking his chin. "In Archenea of all places. The Duchy's core was virtually untouched by the invasion. Every Count and Baron has an army of mercenaries to call upon."

"High risk, high reward." Gaius rationalized with a shrug. "If they've got guards, means they've got the coin to _pay_ guards." He rolled his shoulders and groaned, very much uncomfortable in the uniform he had been forced to wear. The biggest negative of going onto the Royal payroll full time.

"Besides, where else're they gonna find people with coin? _Themis?_" Gaius jabbed, earning a deep glower from Frederick. The thief grinned, successfully annoying his least favorite comrade. "Just because your hubby's from there, doesn't mean they ain't broke Grumpy."

"He has a point, Captain." Stahl pointed out, very much speaking with his mouth full. He swallowed his latest bite, thankfully, before the former squire continued to address his old teacher. "All the country's wealth is down south now. Dad told me the family business is booming."

Frederick sighed in resignation, slouching deep into his chair. Meanwhile, Gaius looked back to the man in charge. He could see the frustration that was boiling within his friend, and he understood it. Squashing the bandit problem was something that Chrom had been hell-bent on ever since he'd founded the Shepherds. They were scum, criminals, people who prayed upon others for no reason other than self-indulgence.

That, and Robin's near death experience at the hand of those poachers was still fresh in everyone's mind. No one enjoyed the idea of these people reeking havoc.

"You're upset." Gaius observed, cheekily. He knew he was stating the obvious, but teasing 'his Exalted Highness' was a perk that offset being stuck in a monkey suit.

Chrom huffed, reaching over for a mug and opting to drink his annoyance away. Gaius snickered, enjoying what he could from the situation. "Hey, when you gave me this job, you said you wanted me to be your eyes and ears. Don't get shirty when you don't like what you see and hear."

"I get it." Chrom aquessed, letting his nerves settle as he tried to control his anger. Ever since Gangrel's death, he'd tried to do as his sister wanted. To make peace with those around him, and to not rely only on his sword to get what he wanted.

As Frederick spoke up, Chrom lifted a hand to cut him off. "I know what you're about to say, and no. We are _not_ cancelling this trip."

Both the Captain and the Grandmaster bristled under this declaration, but neither protested. Meanwhile, the Exalt continued his train of thought. "That being said, I take it you have a plan?"

The ginger's grin grew greater at the suggestion, sticking the sucker back into his gob, quite pleased with himself.

Of course Gaius had a plan. Gaius _always_ had a plan.

* * *

Each of the raids had fit a profile.

One, they were part of a larger caravan. Three carriages at the minimum, loaded for bare with goods. Single wagons seemed to remain untouched, or at least not at the same rate that correlated with this new spike in raids.

Two, each of these wagons had visible guards. Either men at arms or mercenaries hired to protect someone or something that was being transported. Not that these guards seemed to be effective, whoever was looting knew how to fight.

Three, there hadn't been any deaths. Plenty of injuries, a few people crippled, but no one had lost their lives. These thieves struck like lightning, overwhelming the security and taking valuables before they disappeared into the thick brush.

Working with this new information, Robin had come up with a scheme to try and hide in plain sight. The six of them would load up into a single wagon, dressed in nothing more than a common man's clothes. Frederick and Stahl would be the carriage drivers, both of them being the only men openly armed with surplus iron blades. All of their normal equipment would be stored and stowed away, only to be donned once they had traversed the countryside.

Could a heavily guarded convoy have sufficed? Maybe, if the Knighthoods weren't still recovering. Every able soldier already was staffed to other tasks, and those who weren't were still in the middle of their training. Certainly not ready to act as a bodyguard, especially when more seasoned fighters had already been bested.

Chrom had offered to bring more Shepherds, but that plan was also scrapped due to the nature of this trip. The six that were coming each had a purpose. Chrom was the Exalt, Robin was his advisor. Frederick and Stahl were bodyguards, Virion was a foreign dignitary, and Ricken had been brought along in case of any wildcards.

Bringing along someone like Vaike to a Ducal court would be… catastrophic.

Everything had been planned meticulously. Who would come, what they'd bring, the path they'd take, contingencies. Publicly, the trip been cancelled. As far as Ylisse knew, their leader would be spending the rest of the month carrying out his duties within the safety of the palace walls. Only Duke Roderick, a few staffers, and those close to the royal family had any idea what was really going on.

"For the record, I think this is a terrible plan." Sumia told her husband.

Two weeks after that secret meeting, Sumia and Cordelia stood in front of Chrom at the castle gates to see the men off. It was the break of dawn, with the sun slowly coasting above the horizon. The city's streets had still not woken, nor had the palace's servants to help them load their carriage.

The Queen looked as anxious as she sounded, fingers twisting against the fabric of her gloves. When Gaius had informed her of this new bandit problem, she wanted to push for a larger guard detail. Cordelia had demanded the trip be _actually_ cancelled.

Neither of them had gotten what they'd wanted. Actually, the path Chrom had chosen was both of the women's worst case scenarios. Though in Robin's mind, it was the best bad idea they had.

Not that the tactician was present to defend himself. He was currently passed out in the wagon, bundled up in a thick quilt. The grunt work was being handled mostly by the two horsemen, while Ricken fed the horses.

Chrom came forward, giving his wife a soft kiss on the forehead. He brought her in for a comforting hug, both of them embracing one another in the brisk morning breeze. Through the cloth, he could feel her heart nervously beating at an alarming pace.

"We'll be fine." Chrom promised, trying to assuage Sumia's fears. This would be the first time since their wedding they'd be apart. It was affecting them both more than either anticipated. "It's only a week, I'll be home before you know it."

"You're lucky I can't come with you." Sumia insisted, burying her head further in her husband's chest. "If something happens, I'm going to grab Belfire and hunt you down. Don't think I won't."

"And don't think I won't be flying out with her. This whole escapade is a disaster waiting to happen." Cordelia chimed in, looking indignant as ever. She had almost offered to come, but there were too many duties here to abandon. Sumia also would need the company, what with all the other Shepherd women being absent par Sully.

That, and there was someone on this trip Cordelia wished to avoid.

"We've planned for everything. I've handled far more difficult situations than this." Chrom said, not lacking any confidence.

"Yes, and that was before you were the Monarch." Cordelia reminded him, the Exalt's serene attitude making her more uncomfortable. How Chrom had become this unflappable was nothing short of astounding.

Chrom frowned, not liking the tone Cordelia was taking. Friend or not, he did not approve of what she was insinuating. "I'm very well aware of what my life means now."

Cordelia bit her tongue. She wanted to ask if he truly did. If he understood he was leaving his wife and his throne behind for an unneeded dalliance. But she didn't ask, out of respect and a knowledge of their respective stations.

As such, she simply bowed at the hip. "Very well, your highness. I wish you safe travels, then."

With that, Cordelia stood back up and marched off. Sumia split away from her spouse, watching her best friend disappear back within the halls of the palace.

"Her mood's been awful." Sumia observed, the worry not leaving her voice. "Ever since that incident with the patrol."

"Robin was injured under her watch. She blames herself." Chrom reasoned. Though he sensed there was another layer to this.

"And he's been avoiding _her_ too." Sumia observed, turning around to face Chrom again. "I haven't seen them speak a word to one another in weeks."

"You think something happened?" Chrom asked.

Sumia nodded again, her intuition coming into play. "Promise me that you'll talk to him? I'll try and see what's wrong while we're here."

As Chrom nodded, Sumia craned her head to try and catch a glimpse of where Robin even was. Far as she could see, he was completely missing. Noting being able to spot the man, she stood properly again and sighed.

"I'm so tired." She admitted. "It's only been a few months since our wedding, but it feels like years. I can't even remember the last time we had a full night's rest. Every day there's a new problem that needs solving. Or a law that needs to be passed. Or someone we need to meet."

The flier's words struck Chrom deeply, paired with her appearance.

When Chrom had first met Sumia, she reminded him of a wildflower. The way she stood, bending so easily in the breeze. The way she carried herself, always so small amongst a cast of vibrant characters. And yet, she found a way to remain her own person. She was beautiful, yes. But also kind, despite her harsh experiences.

She'd grown from a girl with no self-confidence to a woman that others aspired to be. From a bumbling recruit, to a Knight in shining armor, to now Queen of the realm. And though she suffered then and now… she never blamed others for it. She used the experiences, good and bad, so she could help others. Helping them stand, even if the breeze kept knocking her about.

Sumia still looked like that wildflower. Even as the pedals sagged, she was still a sprout of life to him. Something he cherished more than anything.

Chrom pulled her close again, and the couple embraced one another just as tight as before.

"I don't regret anything." Sumia rectified, not wanting her husband to get the wrong idea. "Even jf I'm exhausted, this is still the happiest I've ever been."

"My only wish is to lessen the load." Chrom said.

"You do more for me than I think you'll ever understand." Sumia assured, causing Chrom to think back to the conversation he'd had with Cordelia ages ago. The discussion about Sumia's childhood, something he'd never been able to capitalize on.

One more reason for him to return.

"Milord!" Frederick called over from the wagon. "We're ready to depart!"

The royals held onto one another for a few moments longer, Frederick letting them return from their bliss on their own time. As they broke apart, both shared a deep kiss, one last momento before their separation.

Somehow, Chrom knew this would be one of the longest weeks of his life.

* * *

After a long day of riding, the six men paused their travels to set camp for the evening.

It was the first time since the War that they'd spend a night sleeping under the stars. During their Shepherd days, these campouts were the norm. Pitching tents, gathering firewood, foraging for food, hunting game. It had all become second nature, like breathing. Even now, after weeks of luxuries such as warm beds and walls to shield from wind, it felt quite familiar.

Things weren't exactly the same. This camp they were setting up was a fraction of the size they used to have. Many of their friends weren't present, so there was significantly less chaos. But that also meant things were significantly less lively, and they each carried out their duties in relative silence.

That was, until the task of finding food came to pass.

"A deer would be ample enough sustenance for a party this size." Frederick observed, pointing out to the large wood that was across the open field. "Whitetails are common in this part of Archenea, we should be able to track one down with ease."

"We'll also need firewood and a spit." Chrom pointed out, hands now dirt-ridden from brush-clearing the campsite. "Something thick and solid to avoid snapping."

"Some nuts and berries would be nice as well." Stahl also added, earning a strange look from the more carnivorous Robin. "What? A man can like dessert!"

"I wouldn't mind some fruit." Ricken hummed engagingly, taking a long slurp from his canteen before speaking again. "We've been eating hardtack all day! My mouth's dry as heck!"

"All of that can be found with ease, but not while also hunting down a doe." Frederick pointed out, to which Virion rose his hand casually.

"Might I propose a solution, my good man?" The foreigner requested, mouth resting in the same smug smirk he always seemed to have. Frederick sighed, but motioned for the man to go on. Better to humor the archer now rather than hear his complaints later.

"As I am sure you are all _well_ aware, I have been known far and wide as the Huntiest of Hunters. One of my many talents." Virion began to boast.

"You have talents?" Robin asked from the side, instantly knocking the nobleman off his tempo as the others shared a laugh.

"Of course! Outwitting you at strategy is amongst them." Virion answered in reply, this time Robin being silenced while the others laughed at his misfortune. "Alas, I volunteer to go procure us a beast for tonight's meal. I will need assistance in bringing the felled creature back to camp, however."

"Stahl will go with you." Chrom informed, before clapping Frederick on the back. "Sir Wary and I will go foraging for firewood and those berries he wants so much."

"What about me?" Ricken asked, adjusting the hem of his farmer's jacket. The boy looked on expectantly, wanting to help in some fashion.

"I'll take Ricken out to the river." Robin offered, earning a disappointed huff from the mage in question. "We still need to give the horses some water, it's only about ten minutes from here."

"It's decided, then." Chrom told everyone. "We all have our duties, let's get them done."

The six friends broke apart, splitting into their teams of two. Chrom and Frederick were the first to leave, the Knight making doubly sure to bring a sword for each of them. Virion dug his bow out from the chest hidden in the wagon, before he began to regal Stahl of the many hunting trophies he had hung on his wall back home.

Which left Robin and Ricken, unhitching the horses before riding them back up north along the road. As they made their way, Ricken removed a tightly bound book from his knapsack. The silence between them was replaced by a quill rapidly scribbling new words into the parchment.

"Let me guess, notes for your parents?" Robin asked, remembering how Ricken had wrote back to his family often during the campaign.

The mage nodded. "Mom asked me to survey how things look down here. See if there's some tricks I can send back home."

"So that's why you volunteered for this job." Robin observed, Ricken's head faintly nodding as they rode. "...You never told me your mother was an Elector."

Ricken's motions stopped, the boy looking over at Robin for a moment before he began to pack his things back into his sack. "Sorry! I didn't mean to hit a nerve." Robin apologized, trying to walk the conversation back.

Ricken shook his head, smiling over to his makeshift mentor. "It's just not something I talk to people about that often."

"You don't need to talk about anything you don't want to." Robin assured, not wanting to make his friend uncomfortable. "If anything, I should've put two and two together. You told me about your family's status."

"But I never told you what my family did." Ricken reminded. "I'm just trying to find some new ways to help our House. I can't do it by fighting anymore."

"Say it like that, you almost sound disappointed." Robin observed.

"...I was starting to get used to it." Ricken admitted half-heartedly, something that shook Robin to his core. Early on in the war, Ricken had regularly hesitated against hurting anyone. But as time went on, fighting became routine. _Killing_ became routine. And his natural abilities with magic only made it that much easier for him.

"Things here in Archenea are going great. People are fed, safe and happy. Well, mostly safe." Ricken quickly amended, remembering why he wasn't allowed to wear his precious hat. "If I can just bring a little of that back home, we might be able to finally start fixing the island's problems."

"You've learned plenty that'll help, that's for sure. Plus, Chrom's going to be happy to send help if you ask." Robin recalled, before putting on a teasing grin. "Along with _another_ noble of pretty good standing."

Ricken's cheeks flushed, and as a reflex the young man reached up to grab for a hat that wasn't there to cover his face. The motion only made Robin laugh, while Ricken kept floundering in embarrassment.

As Robin saw the river coming up, he urged his horse to go into a canter. Ricken matched his pace at once, both men reaching the back at the same time. As they both dismounted, Ricken grabbed both horses and led them over to the water. They stared at the bubbling stream, confused, before leaning their heads down and starting to drink.

"Some advice, Ricken?" Robin offered as the mage walked back from the riverside. "Relax. Take a break, we've all earned one."

Ricken looked at Robin with clear confusion, knowing that the man was being a complete hypocrite. Of all the Shepherds, the Plegian was the one working himself into an early grave. Compared to him, Ricken didn't do anything.

Robin continued, explaining himself. "Your family's lucky to have someone who cares so much about them. But you need to be a bit selfish. When was the last time you and Maribelle went out together?"

"...Before the wedding." Ricken admitted, halfheartedly. "I… um… I don't really have any practice with this whole _boyfriend_ thing. Plus, with her helping her father, and me finishing up my mage studies..."

"Make the time." Robin told him in a firm voice. "It sounds like both of you need it."

"What am I supposed to do, though?" Ricken asked in a bit of a panic. "I can't take her to many places, I'm flat broke."

"Can you afford some tea leaves and incense?" Robin asked, to which Ricken readily nodded. "Then the next time she's in Ylisstol, take her to a quiet part of the palace. Light a few candles, have a kettle ready. Spend some time with her alone, the rest'll come naturally."

"It can't be that simple. She's the daughter of a Duke, she'd want something more… fitting." Ricken rationalized.

"If this was one of the normal airheaded heiresses in court, sure. But Maribelle's not that shallow." Robin assured, crouching down so he was headlevel with his shorter friend. "Besides, she likes you. A lot. Having a few hours alone with you is all she'll want."

"If you say so." Ricken replied, some pep coming back into his voice. Having time alone with his girlfriend, even if it was just over a kettle, did sound rather nice.

Robin grinned from ear to ear, patting Ricken on the shoulder. "I do." He promised. Even if his own love life was a complete and utter mess, helping these two was the least he could do.

It was one way of repaying Maribelle, at least.

* * *

"Are we there yet?"

"No."

"Are we there yet?"

"_No."_

"Are we there yet?"

"**No."**

The next day, Robin did his best to ignore the back and forth between Ricken and Frederick, though the book in his hands sadly was not providing ample enough distraction. Even if this was the first time he'd read it, he'd developed a quick distaste for the story. Sappy, self-indulgent and even less believable than the fantasy tales in his personal library.

The tactician shut the novel closed, giving its cover one last look of disappointment before tossing it back on top of his travel back. 'Make Him Fall for You in a Fortnight', who read this drivel? It was the last time he was letting his stewardess give him literature suggestions.

The Grandmaster sighed, resting his head back against the canvas cover of the large carriage. Maybe conversation would help him pass the time better, it wasn't like he was alone here.

Across from him, Virion was lazily tuning the strings of an old violin. Ricken was sitting closer to the front, engaged in constant questioning of Frederick and Stahl as they drove the horses onwards.

Chrom was sleeping. He drooled while he slept. It was gross.

It had only been a day since they'd left Ylisstol. The boredom was making it feel like a month. It was getting to the point that Robin hoped those bandits would attack, if only to give him something to do.

At least their ruse seemed to have worked. No one looked at them twice. Most of the people who lived in the small villages along the way didn't know what Chrom looked like, so the royal didn't even need to wear something to hide his face.

"How long until we can change into our usual attire? My appearance resembles that of a common cobbler." Virion asked, now having begun to pluck the strings of his instrument. The Noblest of Nobles certainly did not look his part, his cravat and bright blue colors having been supplanted by a duller shade and leather padding.

"We'll reach the Duchy's capitol soon enough." Robin informed, having the same desire as his friend. Not because of their attire, but spending two days straight in a cramped wagon was destroying his back.

The time trapped within this claustrophobic environment had given the Plegian second thoughts about coming along. As usual, he jumped at the chance to escape the monotony of his office work. Now, it sounded appealing. At least in Ylisstol he didn't feel like canned fruit.

Though he didn't want to be anywhere near Ylisstol right now.

After the events of the patrol, he and Cordelia's relationship seemed to ice over even more. On their return, they rarely spoke. Her reports were delivered by runners, he'd stopped his visits to her training drills, and both were taking great strides to avoid one another.

He knew why. That moment they shared, right after she'd saved him from the axeman. What she had said, what he'd promised. Both of them holding one another like that, with her nearing tears and him trying to apologize for his lack of faith.

Neither of them were thinking straight, and time alone wasn't fixing the mend. His leaving would provide them both with some much needed space.

Robin's thoughts were interrupted as Chrom finally stirred awake. The sleeping not-so-beauty yawned, jaw widening like that of a hound. He groaned and stretched, bumping his arm into Robin's shoulder before blinking his eyes open.

"Ugh… are we there yet?" Chrom asked, groggy and dazed.

"**For the tenth time, NO!"** Frederick roared from the helm, making the other five men flinch. Ricken in particular flew to the further end of their transport, taking behind Robin for shelter.

"Easy, Frederick." Robin admonished, patting Ricken's head in a bid to calm the child down. Their helmsman didn't reply, merely grumbling something indiscernible as he refocused himself on the road. Sensing that the situation had been defused, Ricken re-seated himself near the front once more.

"What joy, that now we may be joined in monotony by our glorious leader." Virion waxed sarcastically, now dragging a bow across the strings of the violin to the tune of what sounded like a folk song. Nothing that the others recognized, but music that seemed to be well practiced by the archer.

"How long was I asleep?" Chrom asked no one in particular.

"About four hours." Ricken readily informed, producing a sizable brush from seemingly nowhere. "Got a comb ready to fix that bedhead of yours!"

"Is that my hairbrush?" Virion asked, recognizing the device instantly. As the archer began to dig through his own things, Chrom took the item from Ricken's hand and put it to use.

"Since when do you fix your hair?" Robin asked, surprised to see the man try to clean himself up. The most he'd ever seen Chrom do as far as personal hygiene was some time in a washtub. And even then, he often forgot to do _that_ when on campaign.

"Since Sumia started making me." Chrom responded, a defeated annoyance in his voice. "Maribelle and Lissa got it into her head that I need to 'embody my station'."

Robin stopped himself from laughing, taking amusement at how much the man had become wrapped around his wife's finger. "I mean… can you blame them? I wouldn't've pegged you for a prince when we met, even without the memory loss."

"Back then it didn't matter." Chrom replied, brushing two more times before handing the item off to it's rightful owner. "Stahl, what time is it?"

"Judging by the sun, I'd say a quarter to seven Chrom!" The knight replied, before turning himself around and leaning the front half of his body into the wagon. "You've been out for a good minute. Coming down with something?"

"Gods, I hope not. Last thing I need is to meet Roderick with a runny nose." The exalt said.

"Well, Southtown's coming up. Best way to avoid catching a cold is a night in a proper bed." Stahl advised, his eyes twinkling as he got to use his apothecary knowledge to use. "And some warm food, too."

"I wouldn't mind a bowl of stew. I think the jerky from last night's getting to my stomach." Ricken chipped in, said stomach gurgling right on queue.

"Ah, Southtown. Such a lovely place." Virion mused, his voice bouncing along with the tune of his violin. "Where the women are as sweet as the wine, and twice as intoxicating. It will be a perfect place for us to refresh ourselves."

"Refresh. Right." Chrom said, before looking at Robin. The tactician had already pulled out a map of Archenea, their path clearly marked. With some mental math, he was able to discern their position.

"...We're actually ahead of schedule. Spending a night in an inn would be nice." He told his companions. "Sure. I'm fine with a pit stop."

"We're in agreement, then." Chrom declared, before turning to face the front once more. "**Right, Frederick?"**

"**Yes, milord."** The Captain answered, not commenting on being side tracked to every other man's surprise.

Anything to escape more pestering.

* * *

Their plans to remain undetected sadly fell apart as soon as Chrom stepped out of the wagon. While those in smaller villages and settlements did not know the Exalt's face, Southtown was no small settlement. Especially with how the royal had once saved this town from a raid by Plegian plunderers.

Word spread, and a crowd gathered. Locals, young and old came to try and catch a glimpse of their beloved ruler. More than a few took Stahl and dragged him off, the home-town boy shouting something about checking in on his parents before he disappeared into the human sea.

Realizing that, at this rate, the whole region would be aware of his presence, Chrom changed the plan. Much to Virion's visible delight, he allowed everyone to don their usual attire. Frederick and Ricken went to speak with the town mayor, making plans to restock provisions. Virion marched off, promising something about finding a suitable inn.

Robin opted to visit the local militia depot, something of a surprise inspection for the local commander.

The older man had bent himself over backwards at Robin's behest, going on and on about how humbled he was that the Grandmaster would visit his meager post. Robin was permitted to check their armory, stockade, drill plans, the commander even rallied the town guard to meet him.

Robin noticed quite a few things. The weapons that the soldiers wielded were made of mere iron, if that. Their armor had been well maintained in a _past_ life, but certainly not this one. Drills were held monthly, only practicing basic formations. Each member of the militia wasn't a professional soldier, only taking this role as a secondary occupation to their normal routine.

When Robin asked the old man about the other militias in the area, he'd been informed that all of them were of similar quality. These irregular units were the only organized forces Ylisse had, outside the Knights he'd grown accustomed to.

This was the part of being a Grandmaster that Robin enjoyed. Not the politics, not the paperwork. Speaking with the rank and file, finding out their lot in life, and how he could improve it for them. These were the people who defended Ylisse, just as much as the Shepherds had. And where they lacked equipment and training, they had drive and a wish to improve.

With those two, he could turn these militias into a professional army. All he needed was resources and time.

Sooner enough, as the afternoon turned to evening, Virion found him. The archer didn't have much time to talk, something about meeting a 'lovely new friend'. But he did tell him which inn they'd be resting at.

So, Robin left, finding the establishment quite easily. It was a large building, one that seemed to be regularly frequented by travellers. At the front, their horses had been tied up alongside many other horses. Four wide stories of rooms towered above the main entrance, some with lamplight filling their windows.

He marched inside and spoke with an innkeeper, before being directed to the tavern. Chrom was sitting in a booth, happily chatting with the owner.

"Hope I'm not interrupting." Robin said as he approached as a pause came up between words.

"Not at all, Sir Robin. I was merely getting his highness a drink." The owner answered, large mustache bristling as he smiled.

"I do hope our arrival hasn't burdened you, this place seems rather packed." Chrom told the man, to which he laughed and clapped him across the back.

"Nonsense!" The owner insisted. "If anything, I'm grateful that my wife and I can finally pay you back for all you've done. Room and board for a single night is nothing in comparison to saving our hides from those Plegian savages!"

Robin grew visibly uncomfortable at the remark. Chrom laughed alongside the gentleman, albeit in a somewhat pained manner. Luckily, the man bowed his head, calling for the barmaid to come give them a drink before he walked away.

"Sorry about that…" Chrom said, Robin sitting across from him in the booth.

The Plegian sighed, shaking his head. "He didn't mean any harm by it. People are still on edge, can't blame them."

"That isn't an excuse." Chrom declared, voice unwavering in certainty. "We can't keep clinging to our anger if we ever want a lasting peace between Ylisse and Plegia. Bigotry is what's lead to so much bloodshed."

"He's letting me stay here, isn't he?" Robin observed, not wanting to cause a fuss over this. Chrom frowned, but nodded. He hadn't batted an eye when Robin came in, so that meant something.

When Robin first joined the Shepherds, many people had given him a hard time due to his heritage. Refusing to sell him goods, not letting him into inns, 'surprise' inspections of caravans. He understood why. Plegian raids had been plaguing Ylisse for the better part of a year. The people were scared, and that fear made them hateful.

When word reached the homefront of Emmeryn's sacrifice, her message had resonated with Ylisseans just as it had for Plegians. Soon as both sides realized they only wanted peace, they were able to talk. People began to not see those from the other side of the border as bloodthirsty. Bridges were being built between nations, for the first time in years.

Didn't mean the hate went away, but at least it was beginning to settle. If only the price hadn't been so high.

"The town militia's going to escort us to the Duke's Capitol." Robin told his friend, the barmaid putting two full tankards on the table before shuffling off. "Twenty horsemen, along with an additional wagon."

"So much for being inconspicuous." Chrom joked.

Robin shrugged in response. "You said it yourself, word travels fast. Better to adjust the plan now instead of banking on us staying unnoticed."

"True. We've passed the riskiest part of the trip." Chrom acquiesced. "What did you find out, anyway?"

Robin grabbed his tankard, holding it in front of his mouth. "That when we get back home, I want that bigger budget." He said, taking a sip.

Chrom chuckled, mirroring his friend's movements. "Well, the Knighthoods are settling in fine. We should be able to divert some funds to this project of yours."

"A real army isn't a project. It's a necessity." Robin insisted.

"It's your necessary project. Especially with how you seem keen on avoiding one of our Knight-Captains." Chrom teased, then laughed as Robin almost choked on his ale. The tactician put the mug back down, heaving as he filled his lungs back up with air. He glared over to his lord, but that only made Chrom laugh harder.

Deflating, Robin dropped the look and rested his head in a hand. Chrom kept on for another minute, until he realized his friend had become extremely quiet.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Chrom asked, not wanting to dance around the issue. Robin very much did, but he knew dancing around the issue had gotten him nowhere.

The more he thought about those last moments in the woods, the more his mind ran rampant. How it had felt, her pressing their foreheads together. Both of them smiling despite the environment, blissful to have one another's company.

He thought back to the moment they shared before accepting their new duties. Fingers interlaced as they pledged to support one another through this journey.

That night at the wedding, trading stories and building one another up.

And everything that happened before them. Time spent together on the trail. Fighting side by side. Surviving the worst humanity had to offer, picking one another up when they'd been totally broken.

How she'd comforted him after Emmeryn's loss. How he'd consoled her after Phila's.

These… feelings. Robin needed to tell _someone_. Who else than the closest thing he had to a brother?

"...When did you realize you were in love with Sumia?" Robin asked.

Chrom went still, not expecting his friend to admit the issue without prodding. The Robin he was used to would have dodged and excused until blue in the face.

Realizing how serious the tactician was, Chrom placed his own mug alongside Robin's and answered the question.

"Fighting Gangrel." Chrom said, speaking profoundly. "While you were fending off his guards, I clashed swords with the dastard. Every mistake I made, every missed strike, every hit he landed. The only thing I could think of was returning to her."

"It took getting shocked by lightning for you to stop burying your head in the sand?" The tactician teased.

"Are you really one to criticize?" Chrom answered, face flush in embarrassment.

"No. But I'm going to, regardless." Robin quipped, earning a smile from the Exalt. He went quiet again, letting Chrom continue.

"...I think it was Ferox, when I started to fall in love with her." Chrom reminisced. "Both times, when she saved me from those javelins and my own doubts."

"One time, she sweeps you off your feet with Belfire." Robin recalled, picturing the grey pegasus with both of them in the snow dotted sky. "The next, she does it with a right hook."

"My wife is a woman of action." Chrom said, before throwing in his next piece. "As is Cordelia."

Robin answered that fact with a dry laugh, then slinked himself back into silence. Again his mind juggled the memories and events he shared with the red haired falconer. The path that lead them here, from their first meeting in breakneck pass to that final battle in the northern plains. The moment she entered his life, she'd been a part of every large event in it.

Life without Cordelia seemed… almost empty. And it took weeks of the cold shoulder for him to even realize it.

"So. What're you going to do?" Chrom asked, growing more concerned as the quiet retook its place between them. Robin didn't respond, his strained expression growing darker and darker.

"Oh for-" The Exalt began, before taking hold of Robin's drink and throwing the beverage right into the man's face. Robin spat and sputtered, jumping back as his eyes burned from the brew. Frantically, he used the long sleeves of his coat to wipe his visage clean.

"**What in the seven hells was that for!?"** Robin yelled, voice muffled by the fabric.

"So you would wake up. Did it work?" Chrom replied, letting his advisor drown on dry land for as long as he needed. He sat there patiently, waiting until Robin was completely done making himself presentable before he spoke again. "Now then, where were we?"

"You were asking me what my next move was." Robin reminded, vindictiveness clinging to his words. Though that was soon defused as well, his wits returning as his mind came back to the subject at hand. "The answer is nothing."

Robin saw Chrom reach for the remaining drink, and quickly lifted a hand to stop the man from repeating his last action. "Let me explain, before you give me another shower." He requested. Chrom allowed it, returning to his previous pose as Robin took a breath.

"We don't know anything about me." Robin laid out, plainly. "Besides the name of my mother and my place of birth, I'm nothing but a man with decent looks and smarts to back it up."

"Do you really think Cordelia cares?" Chrom countered.

"No." Robin answered right after. "She never has. I'm not an idiot, Chrom. We know we feel the same way about each other."

"So why is this stopping you?"

"Because what do we do if we find out I'm _**dangerous**_?" Robin reaffirms, pulling harshly on the hem of his cloak. "This is Grimleal garb. You found me armed with a sword and combat tomes. And we still have no idea what this is!"

Mentioning 'this', Robin tore off his leather glove to reveal the mark on his right hand. The mark glowed a strong purple as it's owner's emotions ran rampant, each eye almost seeming alive as it burned into his pale skin. Thin wisps of smoke curled up from it, along with a sinister hiss. Both of which Robin seemed to be the only one to perceive.

Chrom visibly balked. He knew the brand belonged to the Fell Dragon's cult. Other than that, though, he knew nothing. Robin's research had hit several dead ends, Miriel's own digging came up flat. Tharja, someone who grew up a practicing member of the religion, knew nothing of how the mark came to be. Only what it was called; the Brand of the Defile.

And when even _Tharja_ was lost when it came to dark magic, something was very wrong.

The Plegian sighed, grabbing his glove and pulling it back on with a frustrated tug.

"I… if she ever was hurt… because of _me_…" He started, words being hard to say in such a disturbed state. "I… I couldn't live with the guilt. It would rend me apart."

Chrom didn't respond right away. Instead, the royal thought about what to say next.

This wasn't like him and Sumia. With them, it had been Chrom not realizing his feelings until it was almost too late. With Robin and Cordelia, it was their not willing to let themselves feel that way towards anyone.

It was an open secret that Cordelia had once been utterly enamored with Chrom. Another thing he hadn't realized until it was almost too late, but soon enough to ward off breaking the poor girl's heart. The red rider was a fine woman and a good friend, but he never saw her the way he came to see his wife. Word of her moving on would be a surprise to everyone.

Well, to everyone except him. Though he'd been dense as a rock in his own love life, Chrom had managed to put two and two together before all the other Shepherds. Even before Robin and Cordelia had themselves.

In truth, this situation encapsulated the two perfectly. Robin overthought things, often to his own detriment. Always to try and help those he could, regardless of what it cost him. Cordelia was too prideful, believing she had to bare everyone's pain along with her own.

Both were the smartest idiots Chrom had ever met.

So he may as well use Robin's brain against him.

"You love her, right?" Chrom asked, outright. Robin lifted his head, staring blankly at his liege. The question was so direct, it seemed like gibberish.

"_Right?" _Chrom pressed, forcing the question through the tactician's thick skull.

"...Yes. I love her." Robin admitted, finally. "She was the only reason I left Plegia with my sanity. After what happened to Emm…"

"I know." Chrom said, not wanting to relive the event or it's aftermath. He knew he wasn't the only man who suffered that day.

"I have to protect her, Chrom." Robin insisted, life slowly inking back into his voice. "She's already lost so much. I won't see her hurt again, not if I can help it."

"Then you're going to tell her how you feel." Chrom advised. Though the advice sounded far more like a demand. "Cordelia is enamored with you, and she'll stand by you no matter who you once were. Of this, I am certain."

"But if-" Robin argued.

"**If** your past comes back to haunt you, we'll deal with it. You, me, Sumia, Cordelia. **All **of your comrades will help you through." The monarch roared back, pushing himself out of his seat and leaning over so he towered over the Plegian. "But don't rob us of a choice, then use protecting her as an excuse. It's an insult to every one of the Shepherds, including her."

Robin had no response to the tirade. He sat there, once again sinking back into the swamp of his own mind.

Chrom sighed, realizing he had pressed too far. He readied to speak once again, but the look on Robin's face stopped him. Furrowed brow, tight frown, eyes focused downwards. The Plegian had already left this world for his own.

Defeated, he rested back and called the waitress over again. At the very least, he was going to make sure his friend ate supper.

* * *

Robin left the inn after his meal. He needed to walk around a bit, clear his head. Mull over what Chrom had told him.

'Tell her how he felt.' If only things were that simple.

He felt like a fool. Yesterday he'd been ready to lecture Ricken, now when someone did the same for him he acted with such complete indignance. Chrom was right. Everything Chrom had said was right. Cordelia wouldn't care, none of the Shepherds would care.

The nobles though, they would care.

In his short time at court, Robin had learned one thing. Nobles constantly squabble, keeping the balance of power. Duchies would constantly undermine one another, not wanting to become overshadowed. Counts and Barons would negotiate their own trade deals, trying to circumvent rivals. Control over money, control over land, control over resources. Everyone wanted to have more, and because of their conflict they kept each other in check.

Then Robin came along. This Plegian had, seemingly from nowhere, managed to get both the Exalt and the Queen's trust. He'd been appointed to a role that hadn't had any prestige for decades, and was now quickly becoming a position of immense power. If he and Cordelia became an item, it'd mean he'd have the head of the royal guard under his influence as well.

'Influence.' As if Robin cared about any of that. He was only trying to do his job, all of these people were his family.

But they wouldn't see it that way. They'd only see him as a threat.

Gods, how he hated politics.

Those black clouds continue to hover around Robin's thoughts, they were interrupted by a sudden scream. The Plegian stopped, then began to run towards the shrill exclamation. A woman screaming loudly after the sun had come down rarely bade good news.

As Robin rounded the corner, more voices joined the woman's. All of them masculine, one of them eerily familar. Coming from a door halfway down the road. The sign belonging to another pub hung above. Robin kept his pace up, hoping to Naga that he wasn't right in his assumptions about who it was.

Unfortunately for him, Naga didn't seem keen on listening that night.

A figure was violently thrown out of the doorway, bouncing over the cobbled road like a rock over the water's surface. The figure was followed by four men, each of them rather large, walking towards their human projectile at a rather brisk pace.

One of them grabbed their punching back by the collar, whom Robin could now easily identify as Virion. Lastly, a woman came out the same door, yelling something about the men 'letting him go.'

Robin stopped in his tracks and groans. Of course the fop got himself into a mess like this.

The Grandmaster pulled out his arcthunder tome, channeling it before firing a blast off into the sky. Yellow static shot off from his hand as the boom clapped out, windows breaking from the sonic pressure.

The men looked over, seeing the new arrival. Virion was immediately let go, dropping to the ground as he dragged in as much fresh air as his lungs would allow.

"**You can go back inside now." **Robin commanded, shutting his tome closed. The brawlers didn't talk back, all of them piling inside and shutting the door behind him. The woman ran up to Virion, saying something indiscernible as Robin walked up.

"Is he alright?" Robin asked, looking at his friend's bruised form. The archer had seen better days, but he didn't look too worse for wear. So when Robin offered him a hand, he was able to grab it and pull himself up without much effort.

Robin took a few steps back, letting Virion give some parting words to the woman who's feelings he'd managed to ensnare for the night. A multitude of apologies were thrown his way, but as usual the archer showed no ill will. With a flourish, a bow, and a kiss to her hand, he bade her farewell and joined the tactician.

"You have my gratitude, old friend. Those ruffians had me on the back-foot." Virion said, the two of them beginning the walk back towards the inn.

"I'm going to guess it had something to do with her?" Robin deducted.

"Quite. Her brother did not take kindly to my serenades. Inside, he had attempted to run me through with a clarinet." Virion recalled.

"Of course he did. Every time we come to a city, this happens." Robin reminded. In Ferox, he'd been thrown through several tables. One night in Ylisse, he'd been chased through the streets after being caught in the wrong maiden's bed. Even the night after the wedding, several counts seemed ready to place a price on his head over his 'violating' their daughters.

"One of these days, you're not gonna get out in one piece." Robin continued to chastise, catching Virion as he almost stumbled into a building. "Gods' bread, man. What compels you to do all of these roguish acts? You realize Chrom can't protect you forever."

"Now you're beginning to sound like Frederick." Virion joked as he righted himself, using Robin as support as the two continued on their way. "Both of you are more alike than either of you admits."

"Say that to him, he'll feed you your bib."

"I told you, it is a _cravat!_" Virion protested.

Robin merely rolled his eyes. "Sure. You didn't answer my question."

"Is it so wrong that I apprecciate the company of the finer sex?" Virion asked cheekily.

"When it almost gets you killed? Yes." Robin scolded, before sighing again. "...I don't understand you, Virion. You're one of the best men I know, and yet you jump from bed to bed like some kind of honorless vagabond.

The men stopped. Or, to be more accurate, Virion stopped them. The foreigner dug both his boots into the ground, standing of his own ability and glaring over Robin as if he'd been deeply insulted. His callous, carefree attitude seemed almost non-existent. The air itself froze with one of the rare moments that Virion put on no airs.

Robin stood his ground. It wasn't the first time he'd challenged his friend, it wouldn't be the last.

"You're better than this." Robin repeated with absolution. "You could have any woman you want for the rest of your life, but you choose this instead. So I'm asking again, _why?_ I deserve to know, before I find you beaten to within an inch of your life one of these nights."

Virion's glare bore deeper, his expression only becoming more indignant as his friend pressed on. The archer knew that Robin only wanted the best for him. He just wished that Robin wasn't so smugly insufferable about it at times.

But, he owed the man the truth.

"Let us continue to walk and talk, yes?" Virion said, more demanded, as he returned to their route. Robin followed along without another word, letting the man speak.

"When I was a boy, my father told me of how he'd met my mother." Virion explained. "He'd been with many suitors, being the heir of our house. Yet he'd rebuffed all of them, not growing close to a single one. They all seemed _faux_ to him, interested in his name and status."

"Lots of nobles look at a marriage as more of a contract than a partnership." Robin pointed out.

"Many do. He did not. Well into his thirties, he remained unwed. Until one fateful day, he met a cleric in the city's cathedral." Virion reminisce, a genuine smiling gracing his lips. Something else Robin was sparsely able to witness. "That woman would become my mother. A simple healer, who he'd met on a lark. As my father put it, each of us has one person we are meant to be with."

Robin thought the story over. It was rather sweet, but also quite fantastical. Relationships didn't work like that, true love didn't fall into your lap from nowhere. Nor was Virion the kind of man to believe in a dalliant story like that. Behind it all, the 'Archiest of Archers' was one of the most uncompromising people he knew.

But that wasn't the message of the story. The message was that each person had _one_ other they were meant to be with. And if he wasn't one to think that his philandering would help him find that person…

"...You already found yours, didn't you?" Robin asked, to which Virion didn't reply. He merely marched on, uncharacteristically stoic. His silence was all the confirmation that Robin needed as they reached the inn's entrance.

As Virion opened the door, he took a small pause, glancing at Robin over his shoulder.

"Sometimes, I wish I had not." He admitted, before slipping inside.

Whatever that meant, Robin hadn't the slightest idea.

* * *

Come morning, the party decided to pay a visit to the town market. Yet again, many of the town locals had gathered to see the Exalt and his guardians. The whole town materialized from nowhere, just as they had the day prior.

The Militiamen mounted, many of them nervous at the idea of acting as a Kingsguard. Robin had gone, member to member, inspecting their equipment and trying to assuage their fears. All that needed to be done was to watch over the Exalt, nothing special.

With that out of the way, he walked off to the the other side of the market where Stahl was standing guard. His viridian armor was where it should be, on his person. Though these days, he spent little time in combat gear.

The cavalier had a potato roll stuffed in his gob, waving to no-one in particular. Until, that was, a child called his name.

Faster than seemed possible, a boy darted out of the hands of his mother and leapt at Stahl's chest. The knight lost his footing immediately, and landed on his unarmored rear-end with a loud 'POOF'.

Pleased with himself, the boy now bounced up and down in the soldier's lap, giggling happily with each bounce. Stahl himself seemed oddly happy at the situation as well, slipping his hands under the younger boy's arms and lifting him up onto his shoulders.

During the piggy-back ride, Robin observed the physical similarities. Same hair color, same physicality. In fact, the boy seemed to look like a smaller Stahl.

"Younger brother?" Robin asked, trotting up to the pair after a few moments.

"That obvious?" Stahl answered. Seeing that they weren't alone anymore, he crouched down and helped his miniature back to the ground. The youngest of the three immediately hopped to his feet, before scuttering before Robin.

"Your hair's funny!" The young boy said, pointing a finger at Robin's snow white locks. The bold declaration stunned Robin in place, mouth agape as his appearance was mocked. Stahl laughed at the scene, before walking up to his sibling's side.

"Be nice, Rudy." The horseman scolded, though the smile he still wore seemed to mitigate its effect. 'Rudy' merely laughed again, before running back into the crowd as fast as he'd come.

"He's always running around, I swear." Stahl observed, before looking back to Robin. The Plegian hadn't moved, face trapped in a hurt expression.

"Uh, Robin?" Stahl asked, going back and waving his hand in front of the man's face. "Hello, earth to Robin."

"Huh? What?" Robin finally said, not even noticing that he'd been jostled. "Oh. Sorry."

Stahl took his hands off his friend, sizing him up carefully. "You OK? You're acting kind of spacy."

Robin nodded along, but his frown grew. The conversation from last night was still bothering him, amongst other things. But now he had a new problem, something that was bothering him even more.

"..._Is_ my hair funny?" The tactician asked nervously. Stahl laughed out loud, unable to contain himself while Robin's head lolled back as he groaned.

"N-no, no!" Stahl assured between fits of giggles. "Of course not."

Robin folded his arms over his chest, pouting like a child. "I don't believe you."

"I'm serious!" The horseman insisted. "Your hair's fine! It's just… different."

"But he said it looked _funny_!" Robin repeated, voice straining from ever mounting embarrassment.

"Well…" Stahl replied, nervously rubbing his neck "...Yeah, he did say that..._._"

"So is it?" Robin asked again, though this time Stahl was the one who didn't seem like he could offer an answer.

"I knew it!" Robin said, immediately assuming the worst. The Plegian's hands shot up to clutch his head, fingers running through his white curls. He quickly began muttering to himself, trying to come up with a solution "OK. I need to get some hair dye. Anna's probably got some for sale."

"Wait, what!?" Stahl questioned, taken aback by the sudden escalation. "You can't be serious!"

"I'm completely serious!" Robin insisted, very much starting to resemble a madman. "How didn't I notice this before!? I'm the only Shepherd with white hair! I look like some kind of albino peacock!"

"You're acting like Virion when someone insults his bib." Stahl replied, exasperated.

"No, I'm not! Virion has bad fashion sense, I'm being _observant!"_

"Robin, seriously, your h-"

"Maybe I should dye it blue, like Chrom's." The tactician interjected. "Everyone likes his hair, right? It's just like Marth's! Everyone likes Marth!"

"Do you even _hear yourself?"_

Before Robin could continue, a new voice interjected between them. Both Shepherds swiveled around, snapping out of their silliness.

They were joined by the woman that had been with Virion the night before. A bit on the taller side, about as tall as Robin. She shared his snow white hair and pale skin tone, along with slate grey eyes and sharp facial features. She wore an unassuming summer dress, a light shade of red being it's most prominent feature.

"Do either of you gentlemen know how loud you're being?" She interrogated, voice laced with a familiar accent. Robin could already sense that the frown she wore was her usual expression, along with the hands resting on her hips.

Robin and Stahl looked at one another, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as they realized how public their little spat was.

"Ma'am, I am _very_ sorry. We didn't mean to be a disturbance." Stahl apologized, offering the annoyed woman a curt bow at the hip.

"How did you even hear us? This market's full of people." Robin asked, the sound of the morning's shopping easily filling the space between their conversation.

"Because you two are having your little spat in front of my stall." The woman responded, nodding her head to the left. Sure enough, a market stall was set up. Bottles of different shapes and sizes lined up next to one another, along with a man sleeping in a rocking chair. Someone Robin instantly identified as the brother who'd been throttling Virion.

Curious, Robin made his way over. Picking up and inspecting one of the bottles, looking through the translucent glass to see some kind of liquid residing within. The brother looked on, realizing who it was before quickly looking away. Stahl focused on the bottle itself, stroking his chin.

"I know this brew. Plegian style Concoction." Stahl said.

"Very good." The woman observed, standing to the side of the men. "Am I in the company of a fellow apothecary?"

"Former." Stahl admitted, offering her a hand. "Stahl Blomfield, my family runs the shop down the street."

"Oh, so you're the son of my biggest competition." The woman observed, frowning at the hand before accepting it begrudgingly. "Nahla Hadid. My brother and I recently moved here."

"Travelling merchants?" Robin asked.

"Something like that." Nahla answered. "We came east hoping to find people with actual coin to pay for our wares. I make the brew, my brother finds our ingredients."

"You're telling me _he_ spends most of his time in the fields plucking flowers?" Robin questioned, again looking at the tall and muscular man. His build matched that of someone who'd seen plenty of fights in his day, as did the scars that ran up and down his arms and face.

"And he's quite good at it too. Right, Hassan?" Nahla asked. The man just grunted, still not wanting to look in Robin's direction. His wounded pride wouldn't allow it.

"Don't judge a book by it's cover, I suppose." Robin said to himself, before uncorking the bottle and giving it a whiff. His eyes began to water at once, enough that he felt compelled to shut it once more.

Stahl breathed the pungent odor in, entranced by it. "Wow, that's a strong mixture. Is that nitra and waterweed?"

"Good nose. That's the base, along with some other herbs you won't figure out."

"Well, now I'm just curious. You mind buying me a bottle, Robin?" Stahl asked. Robin set the bottle down, removing his coin pouch to oblige. Until he felt a hand fall on top of it's mouth.

"Hold it." Nahla commanded. "I'm not going to just let you take this so your family can steal my recipe. Do I look like a fool?"

"I'm not buying it for my family." Stahl assured, smiling warmly at the woman. "I'm buying it for my friend, he was knocked around pretty badly yesterday."

Nahla's cheeks splurged in color, while Robin also smiled at the irony. Stahl didn't know who had attacked Virion, or why. Just that their friend was having headaches all day, even if he tried to hide them.

Another bottle was tossed their way, one that Robin was able to catch. This one's contents were more opaque than the last, though the container itself was far smaller.

"That's an elixer." The brother explained, having forced himself to look at the new arrivals. "Far more effective. Helps with wounds along with any head troubles or muscle pain your friend may have."

Robin nodded, going to open his purse again, before he was interrupted once more.

"They are free of charge." Hassan said. "An apology for his state."

"Apology?" Stahl asked, completely out of the loop. The other shopkeeper retracted her hand, placing it on her hip.

"I'll explain later." Robin said, pocketing both vials into his carrying sack. "Thank you both. I'll be sure to stop by when we come back through Southtown.

"If we're still here." Nahla added, before waving the men off. "Go. And um… make sure to tell your friend he was a lovely entertainer last night."

"I'm sure he'll be happy to hear that." Robin answered, starting to trudge off from the stand. Stahl stood there, still confused and wanting to be given an explination. Something he wouldn't recieve, as Robin grabbed the cavalier by his large collar and tugged him back away into the rest of the market.

"Ow! OW! Hey, stop it!" Stahl protested, prying Robin's hand free. "What was that for!?"

"Two things you need to know about Plegians." Robin rattled. "One, never deny their gifts. Two, never outstay your welcome."

"How do you know they were Plegians?" Stahl asked.

"Skin tone. Hair color. Accent." Robin rattled off. "They're likely refugees from the war. A lot of them are floating around these days, trying to find new places to call home."

"...Must be hard for them. Coming to Ylisse of all places."

"Less bad memories, I'll wager."

"Maybe. Still, did you see that guy?" Stahl asked, jerking a thumb behind them. "He was completely ripped! I think _Vaike _has less muscles than him!"

"Certainly don't get those from apothecary work." Robin said.

"You think something's up?"

"No. But I'd bet he wasn't always picking flowers and making medicine." The Plegian wagered. No, no. A build like that only came for one purpose, fighting. And it didn't take a genius to figure out why anyone had to have fought recently.

The two of them found their way to the center of town, meeting with the four others. After a while, they gathered their things and made their way to the caravan. There, a few wellwishers watched on as the Exalt and his impromptu guard rode off, out of town and further towards the heart of the Duchy.

So close their goal. Yet so, so far away.

* * *

_**A/N: Another two months, another installment. This is going to be a three part arc, with the story returning to Ylisstol next chapter.**_

_**Until then, happy reading, and happy February.**_

_**o/**_


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